I Hate Everything About You
by Wench of Diablos
Summary: Revised. Co-written with Pod Sara. In exchange for helping Selphie start a Student Activities center at Garden, Seifer is given his freedom and a second chance to get things right.
1. Chapter 1

**_Chapter One_**  
Welcome Home

* * *

**I**

My name is Seifer Almasy. Unless you've been living in a cave in Trabia for the last three years, you know who I am. Or, at least, you _think_ you do. You know what I've done. You've heard the tales about the horrible crimes I committed, seen the human interest stories about the families of people that I murdered and you probably even read my so-called confession in the newspaper. I bet you've passed judgmenton me, condemned me, called me a monster. You've associated my name with all things awful and evil. You probably even believe that I'm a psychotic killer, that I'm unredeemable and should rot in hell for all eternity.

Am I right?

Well, I'm here to tell you: you know exactly _dick _about who I am._  
_  
You know what I did, but that doesn't mean you know what I'm really about.

Most of what you've heard about me_ is _true. I'll admit that. I _did_ commit those crimes, and I _did_ kill those people, but before you write me off again, let me tell you...unless _you've_ been mind raped by a Sorceress bent on destroying the world, you know _nothing_ about my motivation for doing the things I did. You think I _wanted_ to do those things? Think again, buddy. I was a screwed up kid who got in over his head and by the time I figured out what was going on, it was too late.

It's not an excuse, just the truth. I'll be the first to admit to my crimes and failures, and of all the things they call me, _liar_ is not one of them. So if you think I'm trying to con you or blow smoke, think again. I only deal in truth. I have no time or patience for delusions anymore. Not even my own.

But I digress.

There are some who believe that I was possessed from the start, but that's not the case. I had a _choice_. I could either follow her into the unknown or stay behind and face whatever fate awaited me back at Garden. I chose to follow. I chose that path, and whatever sins that were committed are on me. I did those things. I am a bastard and a killer, but no more so than the great Squall Leonhart, who emerged a hero in the end. The difference between us is the reasons behind _why_ we killed.

It could have just as easily been Squall, you know. Had I chosen to walk away from her, she would have turned her eyes on him, and maybe he'd be the one everyone loathed and looked at with hatred burning in their eyes. He would have been the sinner, the murderer, the hated and loathed. But I made the choice, for better or for worse and that burden is _mine_ to carry.

Looking back, it makes me sick to think about the things she made me do. _Sick_. Just like it makes _you_ sick to think about them. Except that _I_ have to think about them all the time. It's on my mind, twenty-four-seven and it never goes away. Not even sleep is a refuge from my sins.

One other thing. That 'confession' the Galbadian papers printed? Not a _word_ of it came out of my mouth. Don't believe everything you read, especially when it comes from Galbadia. After all, you should already know that the _Gabadian Gazette_ deals in sensationalism, not fact. And the results of those psychological evaluations the _Gazette_ printed? The ones that said I was a psychotic, disturbed individual with no conscience? Well, the only doctor I saw in prison was the one who gave me a tetanus shot after another inmate stabbed me with a filed down spoon.

One of these days, I'm going to write down the whole thing, in my own words, and tell you what _really_ happened.

But not today.

So, what's the point, you wonder? Well, I'm here to tell you how and why I ended up back at Balamb Garden, and how a fuck up like me got a second chance to get it right.

* * *

**II**

I stood in front of Balamb Garden staring up at my former home with a mixture of dread and excitement. It was a symbol of my youth, the only place I really ever called home, and every good memory I had was born inside those walls. It was also a reminder of every mistake I had ever made, every sin I'd ever committed and every drop of blood I'd shed. I thought I'd never lay eyes on this place again.

I was handcuffed and dressed in a bright orange Galbadian prison uniform and everyone was staring at me as I stood there, trying to decide if I should tell the guard to take me back to E-District or if I should suck it up and deal with whatever awaited me on the other side. I'd left this place as a boy (I might have denied it then, but that's exactly what I was) with more talent than I knew what to do with, a kid with too much potential and a laundry list of impossible dreams I was returning as a broken man, feared by most, hated by all, and I hadn't a single dream left. Three years in prison had eroded away every last hope I'd ever had for myself, and I knew that there was nothing left for me but time and regret and the stones of guilt that weighed me down as heavily as if they'd been sewn into my clothes.

All around me, I felt their eyes boring into me. I could feel their hatred. I could hear their whispers. They knew who I was and what I'd done. I wish I could say that I didn't care, but I did. How could I explain why I did the things I did? How could I tell them that I hadn't been in control of the situation? I suppose they had the right to judge me, since in the beginning, I _did_ go along willingly with the whole ugly scheme. I had these grand illusions of being revered and lauded as a hero in every corner of the world. Everyone would know my name, and the whole world would respect me.

What an idiot I was. I didn't know that power makes you drunk or that a kid like me could be brainwashed into doing things that no sane person would do. I'd bought into it, hook, line and sinker and by the time I realized what was going on, it was too late to take it back. The sins had already been committed, the blood already dried to crust on my hands.

And just so you know? If I could take it all back, I would.

The Galbadian prison guard that served as my escort gave me a rough shove from behind and said, "Keep it moving Almasy."

I looked over my shoulder at him. "Mind if I have a smoke first?" I asked. I hadn't had one since I'd left the prison many hours ago, and every cell in my body was screaming for a fix. There's not much to do in prison but work, sleep and smoke. I'd become a slave to nicotine, and at that moment, I was jonesing. Bad, like.

The guard eyed the pack I kept in the front pocket of my prison issue shirt and fished it out. He took two from the pack, one for me, one for him and lit both of them. In any other situation, I would have been pissed about him helping himself to my stash, but I let it go. There wasn't a lot I could do to him in handcuffs, and these days, I picked my battles.

As I smoked my cigarette, I though about how I'd lucked out. Somehow, Headmaster Cid had convinced the Galbadian and Estharian governments to turn custody of me over to Garden. Technically, I was still their property, regardless of what I'd done, and _technically _that meant they were the ones who had the right to administer my punishment as they saw fit. Or some such nonsense. It didn't matter to me. What was Cid going to do? Keep me in the brig for the rest of my life? I was cool with that. The brig at Garden was a day at the freaking spa compared to what I'd been through in the last three years. I'd probably still be considered the lowest common denominator, but at least I'd have a cell to myself, decent food and the guy in the cell next to me probably wouldn't sing 'Eyes on Me' at the top of his lungs all night long. More than likely, I'd be one of maybe two or three in a place built to hold ten times that.

But, I'll tell you, I wasn't looking forward to seeing _them_ again. You know who I mean. I didn't want to see how they'd reaped the benefits of their victory. After all, in the end, it was _their_ names that commanded respect, _their_ names that were synonymous with heroism and courage, not mine. My name brought to mind vile and evil things. I'd read the papers after it had all gone down. I'd seen the photos and the television reports about all the ceremonies and awards and recognition they'd received for saving the world. They got medals and accolades. I got a life sentence and more guilt than any man should ever have to carry around.

It might sound to you like I begrudged them their glory, but I didn't. I'd have reveled in it too if I'd been them. I would have milked it for everything it was worth and then some.

And the truth was, I felt really guilty about my part in the whole stupid mess. While I wasn't in control of my actions, it was still _my_ hand at the wheel, and I felt bad about that. My sins would eat at me for the rest of my life. No matter how hard I tried to repair the damage done, there would never be enough time to fix it. There was no way I could repay those that I'd hurt and killed, nothing that would take the stain of blood from my hands.

So there I stood, staring at my former home, the cigarette dangling from my lips, and pondered what was in store for me. I wondered why Cid had even bothered. In Galbadia, I wasn't his problem child any more. I was out of sight, out of mind, or at least, I should have been. Did he want to make me face my crimes? To look into the eyes of those I'd betrayed? Maybe, but I didn't see what good that would do except make me a mascot for evil, which I already was. And truth be told, I didn't think Cid was vindictive like that. After all, his own wife had played a large part in the whole thing, used like a puppet just as I had.

Edea had never been imprisoned for _her_ crimes. She'd killed Vinzer Deling in front of twenty thousand people, not that his death was a great loss to the world, but still, she'd _killed_ the President of Galbadia, which was technically treason. She'd ordered me to kill anyone who stood in her way, like a mob boss ordering a hit on anyone who crossed him. It never mattered who they were.

They forgave her because she'd been possessed by Ultimecia. Because she'd been a kind woman before her possession.

Me? I'd been a poster child for delinquent behavior. They had no reason to forgive me.

Didn't they know Ultimecia controlled my every move? Shouldn't I have been forgiven too?

Well, I suppose someone had to be the scapegoat. Someone had to be punished for it. Easier to blame a mortal man than a megolomaniacal sorceress from the future that no one had ever heard of before.

"all right, Almasy. Let's go," the guard said and tossed his cigarette butt on the ground. He took me by the arm and lead me through the gate, up the steps and directly to the elevator.

I was bombarded by memories as I looked around at the place I'd once called home. It hadn't changed much from what I could tell, though I'd read in the papers about several expansion projects Squall had initiated once he'd officially and permanently assumed control of Balamb Garden.

Funny thing about that. I'd never imagined that Squall would go anywhere. Not because he didn't have talent, but because he'd never wanted to stand out. He was content to just be average, even if he couldn't have been average if he'd tried. He was too quiet, not very assertive and certainly not someone I would have ever thought of as a born leader. The only place he'd ever_ truly_ excelled was in his training. He may have been my rival, but even before everything happened, I recognized that he had talent, if only he'd had the balls to use it.

I guess I'd been wrong about him all along. I'd seen what he could do. I'd felt the sharp edge of his blade and once he'd hit his stride, he'd been formidable indeed. Squall come a long way, and I had to grudgingly respect that, even if I didn't like it.

The guard lead me to the headmaster's office and told me to sit down. I complied with his request and waited while he spoke with the receptionist, who was silently cursing me with her eyes from her side of the desk. I told myself I was used to it, but the fact was, I never got used to it. I hated being hated.

It felt like an eternity before Cid finally called me to his office. The guard was dismissed and I followed Cid inside the office, where he unlocked the handcuffs and motioned for me to sit.

"Seifer," Cid said. "You look well."

"Thank you, Sir," I replied.

He was lying, and I knew it. I could see it in his eyes, but I kept my mouth shut.

"I suppose you're wondering why you're here."

"Yeah," I said.

"I have a...proposition for you," he said. "One I think you might like."

"A proposition?" I asked, wondering where this was going to lead. I didn't allow myself to hope for freedom or a life of my own. That would have been futile and pointless and just another disappointment I didn't want to have to face.

"I feel that you've been unfairly incarcerated," he said. "While the crimes you've been charged with are grievous, I suspect that you had little control over your actions. Am I correct in my assumptions?"

He was partially right, but as I said before, I had gone along with it in the beginning. "I wasn't coerced."

"Perhaps not," he cut in, "but the fact remains that at some point, you lost control of your actions. After reviewing the facts and getting the whole story from Edea, I feel you've served your time and you deserve another chance."

I stared at him. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Another chance? To do what? Become a SeeD? As far as I knew, I was well past the age limit, unless things had changed. "No offense, Sir, but are you out of your mind?"

Cid laughed and shook his head. "Everyone thinks so, but no. I haven't lost it. At least, not yet."

"Then why?"

"Because I believe you were a confused kid who made some bad choices, not the cold hearted monster the media has made you out to be."

I felt the first stirrings of hope and pushed them back and out of my mind. I couldn't allow myself to feel anything but cold acceptance of my situation. "So what is it that you want from me?" I asked.

Cid tapped his pen against the desk top and leaned back in his chair. "Instructor Ngyen retired at the end of last semester. You may remember him."

I did. He had been the resident gunblade instructor, and a cranky old bastard, but he was good at what he did. Taught me everything I knew. Taught Squall everything _he_ knew, for that matter.

I nodded and Cid continued. "Being that Squall can not assume Ngyen's duties and we have not found a replacement, I am now short one gunblade instructor, and with sixteen current students and nine more enrolling for next term, that leaves us in a precarious position. I need a skilled replacement, and soon. Someone who's mastered the craft."

Somehow, I_ knew_ he wanted me to be Ngyen's replacement. The hope I'd been denying myself suddenly surged to the forefront and I had to fight to control myself. I didn't want him to know how much I longed for my freedom, even if it was in a place where I'd be hated by everyone around me. Of course, anywhere I went, I'd be hated, even in prison. Better to be hated and free, than hated where everyone can see you, all the time.

"You may not know this, but Squall has recently extended the age limit for service as a SeeD from twenty-one to thirty-five. He felt that it was a waste to train students, and then send them off to work for Galbadia while they were still in their prime. And, while _technically_, you have passed the age limit to become a SeeD, we are willing to make a special exception in your case."

I stared at him, unsure of what to say.

"All you have left is the field exam, am I correct?" he asked.

"Yes, but-" I hedged.

"I see no need of making you take the exam again. You've proved to me your abilities ten times over," he said. "So, from this day forward, you are officially a SeeD."

I could only stare at him in shock. This was the last thing I expected.

"Which brings me to the offer I spoke of earlier," he said. "We want you to get your instructor's licensee and take over Ngyen's duties in exchange for your...assistance with a troublesome little project. You can think of it as community service if you wish. Of course, if this plan isn't to your liking, you're welcome to serve your prescribed term of incarceration in the brig, under the watchful eye of your good friend Fujin. No pun intended," he said with a sheepish grin.

Was he kidding? He didn't honestly think I'd choose jail over freedom, no matter how menial the task he had in store for me was. He could tell me I'd be teaching Moombas to read, or spending my free time shoveling chocobo shit at the Choco Ranch and I wouldn't have cared. At that moment, my freedom was worth whatever price he put on it.

I tried to control my excitement and asked casually what the project was.

"Selphie Tilmitt has just been assigned the daunting task of setting up the new Student Affairs Department. She's working with very little money and very little support, so she'll need assistance to get it off the ground. She's agreed to help you study for your instructor's licensee in exchange for your help putting it all together."

I felt like someone had just handed me a million Gil and I didn't know what to do with it. I'd just been granted my freedom, and I was only being asked to do a few small things in return. It was a sweet deal, even if it defied logic. I imagined the press was going to have a field day with this once word got out that the root of all evil, _me_, had been set free to warp young and impressionable minds as he saw fit. I wondered if Cid was prepared for that. Then I decided, I didn't care. I was free!

"One thing, Seifer. If you screw up, you'll spend the rest of your life in the brig, understood?"

"Fair enough," I agreed.

"Good. Then we're agreed," Cid said, satisfied. "Your classes begin Monday. You can pick up a copy of your schedule and your books from the registrar. I've taken the liberty of putting you in the accelerated courses."

I nodded. I was familiar with the procedure, though I didn't like the idea of fast tracking my studies. I'd never been a good student. Mostly because I didn't spend much time hitting the books. I'd had more important things to do back then. Like torment underclassmen and figure out how to smuggle alcohol into my dorm.

"You're to report to Selphie first thing tomorrow," he said and wrote down the location of her office. "You are to think of her as your mentor. While she's no longer an instructor due to her new assignment, she will prove very helpful to you in your studies."

"And just how long am I supposed to assist her?" I asked, for clarification.

"I suppose for as long as she needs you," Cid said. He pushed his glasses up on his nose. "But make no mistake, Seifer. While she may appear to be easy-going, she has been instructed to be strict with you. I will not accept any slacking on your part and I expect you to toe the line from here on out. Your future here depends on it."

Again, I agreed. He was beating a dead horse, but I kept my mouth shut.

"As far as privileges, for now you will be restricted to the grounds. Once you've earned your licensee and have proven to me that you can behave yourself, you'll be given the same rights as any other instructor on staff. You do still have a substantial amount of Gil left in your old student account, and I suspect you'll be needing a few things, so I've arranged for Selphie to escort you to Balamb tomorrow afternoon," he said. "As far as lodging is concerned, our instructors in training usually stay in dorms just like SeeDs, however because enrollment is at an all time high, I have no choice but to house you in the staff apartments. It's probably for the best given the circumstances, but I'm sure you'll find the accommodations quite comfortable."

He placed in front of me a key card and a new ID badge that identified me as _Seifer Almasy, Instructor in Training_.

The keys to my freedom.

I picked them up carefully, as though they might disintegrate in my hands.

Grateful is not a big enough word for what I was feeling. I'd _literally_ been set free. Oh, sure, they expected something of me, and I'd be limited to the grounds for a while, but that was fine. After spending three years living in a five by eight cell where I couldn't even take a leak without being watched, I would have done _anything _they asked in exchange for my freedom. I'd have kissed Cid's bare ass if he'd asked me to.

The thing was, I'd long ago given up any hope of being able to finish out the rest of my life like everyone else. I'd given up hope of getting the chance to repay my debt to society, not that anything I did would be enough. Now that I'd been set free, I didn't know to feel.

I harbored no illusions that the road ahead of me would be easy. For one thing, despite my talent in the training center, I'd been a poor student. I managed to scrape by when I had to, but I'd never made any extra efforts to excel in the classroom. My study habits had been nonexistent. Add to that the fact that I hadn't touched a gunblade in over three years, and I had a recipe for a long, hard journey laced with frustration and long sleepless nights.

On top of all this was the knowledge that everywhere I went, I'd be met with dissent. At every bend in the road, I'd be persecuted, my every action questioned, and if I blew it, it was back in chains for me. It would be easy to say that I'd follow all the rules and be on my best behavior. Believe me, I _wanted_ to, but I also have a pretty bad temper. It's not in my nature to back down from a fight (though time spent in prison had taken some of that out of me), and I had a bad feeling that my resolve to remain a free man would be tested. I knew there had to be a lot of people here who would have liked nothing more to see me thrown in the brig for the rest of my life, and who could blame them? I knew that there would be some people who'd do _anything _to make that happen. I just hoped that I could control myself when confronted with these situations which I knew I wouldn't be able to avoid.

Before I left the office, Cid gave me clothing to change into - khaki cargo pants and a white T-shirt, so that I wouldn't have to walk the halls in the bright orange prison uniform. I was grateful for his foresight. Otherwise, I might as well have pinned a target on my chest and let them take turns practicing their aim.

Once I'd changed, Cid had Xu show me to my new room. Along the way, she reminded me of the Garden Code of Conduct. Curfew, dress code, attendance. I already knew them all, having once been the captain of the Disciplinary Committee, the enforcer feared by all. I could have recited them to her verbatim if she'd asked me to. Instead, I kept my mouth shut and followed her to the second floor.

She stopped in front of what was to be my room for ever how long I could manage to behave myself and she gave me a cold, appraising look.

"You're here because of Cid. Not everyone agreed with his decision, you know," she said.

"I'm sure of that," I said, taking great care to keep any emotion from showing in my face or my voice. Xu was the last person I wanted to piss off right now.

"But," she said and flashed a ironic smile, "you _will_ find that there are a few people who still believe in you. Not _everyone_ here is your enemy."

I raised an eyebrow at her and wondered who she might be talking about. I knew she wasn't talking about _herself_. She'd always hated me and I could tell that hadn't changed. It probably never would. I'd never liked her much either, so I was cool with that, but I wondered why she was telling me this. She could have cared less if there was anyone on my side. In fact, I was pretty sure it would make her whole _year_ to see me crash and burn.

I unlocked the door and stepped inside the place I'd call home from now on. When Cid said it was an apartment, he hadn't been lying. While it wasn't overly large, it was comfortable, especially compared to, you know, a five by eight prison cell.

The living area was tastefully decorated in shades of cream and chocolate, with big, comfortable looking couches. The entire place was furnished with every convenience imaginable, and when I opened the fridge, I saw it had been stocked full of healthy foods. There was even a pound of coffee in the pantry.

"Cid will have the rest of your things sent up," Xu said and opened the blinds.

"What things?" I asked. I didn't have anything that belonged to me anymore.

"From before," she said simply. She turned away from the window and walked to the door. She paused in the doorway and said, "Welcome home, Seifer, and _good luck_."

She just_ had_ to throw it in there, didn't she?

* * *

**III**

I spent about an hour inspecting my new apartment, still in shock over the fact that, within limits, I was a free man. It was humbling to know that someone had thought me worthy of reform after all that had happened.

I knew that when they looked at me, they saw who I _used_ to be. They didn't know that three years in prison changed a man in ways they couldn't even imagine. I wasn't a kid anymore.

I knew that there would be those that, no matter what I did, would always see me as a deranged killer and I accepted that. It was the ones that saw _potential _in me that I found troublesome. For the first time in my life, I was afraid I was going to disappoint someone, and that bothered me. I saw the opportunity I'd been handed. This was my chance to be one of the good guys. A chance to be a better person. _They_ were the ones I had to impress, not those that wouldn't change their mind, no matter how much good I did in the world.

A knock at the door startled me out of my thoughts and I peered through the peep hole to see who my visitor was. There was a flash of vivid yellow, then a pair of intense green eyes peering back at me.

To my surprise, it was the Messenger Girl.

I hadn't really known Selphie Tilmitt. She'd only been at Garden a few days when the whole thing started, but I remembered that she was cute and perky and fearless. I wasn't sure if I was ready for cute and perky, but I opened the door anyway.

"Hi," she said and flashed me a thousand watt grin. She walked right in without being invited and cried, "Welcome home!"

_Obviously one of my supporters,_ I thought, somewhat amused.

"I'm _sooo_ excited that we'll be working together. You don't know how long I've been asking Cid for some help getting the Student Center off the ground, but now that you're here, I've got all _kinds_ of plans," she said. "My dream is to finally have a Garden Festival. There just hasn't been the time or the money to do it, but now I'll be doing this full time, and I have_ so_ many plans! Fundraisers of all kinds. What do you think? You know, I'm_ really_ glad your back. I never thought you were a bad guy, just confused or something. Anyway, I just thought I'd drop by and say hello."

_Perky_ was the wrong word for Selphie Tilmitt. I wasn't sure there _was_ a word to describe what she was. I found myself at a loss in her presence, and I imagined what my life was going to be like from this point on. I hoped she wasn't like this _all the time_. My greatest fear was that I'd be sent to the brig for brawling, but I guessed the bigger challenge would be getting through this without _choking_ her to death.

"Aren't you happy to be back?" she continued. "You're lucky they gave you an apartment. It's _so_ much nicer than the dorms, don't you think? I love mine. It's all yellow, which is my favorite color in the _whole_ world."

"I would never have guessed," I said sarcastically, then admonished myself for not being able to keep my smart ass comments to myself. I was going to have to work with her, which meant in order to keep things peaceful, I'd have to mind my mouth, for a change. Otherwise, I was going to end up back in prison.

She grinned and patted me on the arm. "Well, if you need anything, I'm right next door," she said. "Gotta run. Congratulations and good luck!"

Once she was gone, I flopped down on the couch and sighed. I felt exhausted in her wake. Was this my punishment? Was I really going to have to tolerate this for the next few months, because truth be told, I didn't think I could handle it. She was going to drive me out of my mind.

Sure, it was nice to know that at least one person besides Cid was glad to have me around, but I decided I would rather have her hate me. Maybe then, she'd just leave me alone and let me do what I had to do. I wondered if Cid had done this on purpose. I wondered if he knew I'd have a harder time dealing with her than fending off attacks from those that wanted me dead. I was starting to think I'd made a huge mistake.

I will tell you that before this, I'd been offered another deal, one that had been hard to turn down. A few months earlier, I'd been approached by Jorjan Deling, Commander of the Galbadian Army. I'd known him, during the war for a brief time, and he'd been a capable leader. The troops had liked him, and had looked up to him. Anyway, he'd proposed that, in exchange for limited freedom, I would serve in the Galbadian Army under his supervision.

He was the son of Vinzer Deling, and while he had the support and respect of the people, unlike his father, there was something about him that wasn't quite right. I hadn't been able to pin it down, but my general impression of him was that of a wolf masquerading as a moomba. There was a reason he wanted _me_, and I wanted no part of whatever he may have had up his sleeve. Besides. I have no interest in being a part of an organization known more for ineptitude than valor.

Now I was regretting my decision to turn down his offer.

* * *

**IV**

I was amazed how much I'd taken for granted when I'd been a free man, like being able to take a shower _alone_, for example. I think that first shower was the best I'd ever had in my life, though I kept expecting someone to say, "Hurry it up, Almasy. This ain't a spa."

And coffee. I hadn't had coffee in three years, nor had I been allowed to eat with a fork.

You may not think these things are a big deal, but I promise you, spend a few years in the pokey and you'd get a thrill from being allowed to put on your underwear without being watched.

Me? I was having trouble believing I was actually _free_. Every time I glanced at the wall, I was startled _not_ to see iron bars and cinderblock.

* * *

**V**

Some time after sunset, Squall paid me a visit. He was the last person I expected to see. Well, other than Zell that is. I somehow doubted the Chicken-wuss would drop by to welcome me home. Squall, however, may have been obligated, being that he was commander and all.

When I opened the door, he didn't say anything, just stood there sizing me up for a moment. From his posture alone, I could tell how much he'd changed. That shy, brooding kid I'd known was long gone. In his place stood a man who was _absolutely_ sure of himself and of everything he did. He had that air of cool confidence that you only see in those who are certain of who they are, and his presence was as commanding as President Carrawy himself. I had trouble reconciling that quiet kid with the man that stood before me, but there was no mistaking that this was the same guy.

"I just stopped by to drop off your gunblade," he said. "Figured you'd want to start training as soon as possible."

I hadn't even noticed the case in his hand and it was indeed mine. I would have been able to identify my blade case anywhere, what with all the metal band and skull stickers all over it. I couldn't believe they'd saved it. I hadn't seen it since I'd been arrested and I had long ago given up hope of ever seeing it again.

I took it from him, laid the case down on the table and popped the latch. Hyperion lay nestled inside, the same as I remembered her.

"Hello, old friend," I said to the blade as I ran my finger along it's blunted edge. "Did you miss me?"

Squall was still standing in the doorway so I invited him in, figuring, what the hell. He'd just done me a favor, and though I didn't know where we stood with one another anymore, it might help to make nice with the guy. After all, eventually, I'd be working for him. Which, by the way, would have been an impossibility three years ago.

He stepped in a few paces, shut the door and then leaned against the fridge, arms crossed and looking a little amused. He watched silently as I took the blade from the case and tested her weight in my hand. She felt exactly the same as I remembered, as if it had only been days and not years since I'd last held her.

"Hope you don't mind," Squall said, "but I tried it out once."

I should have been pissed about that, but I wasn't. I'd always had a secret desire to try out Griever and I would have done the same if I had the chance. I couldn't blame him.

"Not it. _She_," I said and inspected the cutting edge. Someone had sharpened her in preparation for my arrival. "How'd you like her?"

"Not bad," he said. "I still prefer a two handed blade."

I smirked. "You always did."

It was strange to be standing there, chatting with Squall as if we were old friends. We weren't. As far as I could recall we'd _never_ been. I'd been too much of a show off and a bully for that. Still, I wondered which side _he'd_ been on when the vote was taken regarding my fate.

"How's Rinoa?" I asked casually as I took a close look at the barrel. Someone had oiled her recently.

"She's good," Squall said. "She's an instructor now. Teaches _Sorceress Theory_."

How appropriate.

"Heard you guys got hitched," I said and placed Hyperion back into her case. "When did you walk that plank?"

"Two years ago," Squall said.

I smirked at him. "How sweet."

He raised an eyebrow at me and smirked back. "Sweeter than you know."

"Give her my regards," I said.

"You might want to _thank_ her when you see her," Squall said, giving me a pointed look. "If not for her, you'd still be rotting away in E-District."

I stared at him, unable to believe what I'd heard. _ Rinoa_ had vouched for me? After what I'd done to her? That was the last thing I'd expected. If anything, I'd have figured Rinoa would have been one of my strongest opponents. She had every reason in the world to hate me, yet she'd stuck up for me? _Why_, I wondered.

Squall smirked at me again and reached for the doorknob. "See you around, Seifer."

* * *

**VI**

Selphie stood in the middle of her new office and looked around at the piles and piles of junk everywhere. Somewhere, underneath the dusty boxes, stacked almost floor to ceiling, were desks, and she could make out a book case against one wall. Even though it was a total mess, there were definite possibilities here. All it needed was to be cleaned out, and maybe painted a cheerier shade. Banana would look good. Or maybe lemon cream. Then, she'd put up a great big calendar to remind her of all the up coming events. She'd already posted a sign up sheet for volunteers in the library, the cafeteria, the registrar's office and in the dorms. So far, no one had signed up, but she knew that would change, once they heard about all her plans.

She sighed happily and poked through one of the boxes next to the door. There was nothing in it of interest, so she turned her attention to the Ping-Pong table leaning against the wall. It was dusty, but in good repair. She could put it in the activities room, which used to be the preschool. That room was nearly empty, since it's contents had been transferred to the new building behind Garden. There were a few things that had been left behind, though none of them terribly useful. A handful of broken toys. A poster of the food groups. Cracked plastic bins.

It didn't matter. With Seifer's help, this place would be a smashing success. She just hoped he'd be cooperative.

She thought about him as she dusted the bookshelf with an old fleece blanket she'd found in the closet. He looked _awful_, like he hadn't had a good night's sleep in years, which, she realized he probably hadn't. It was more than that, though. He looked haunted, and older than twenty-two. She supposed it was to be expected. After all, he had to live with the fact that he'd killed a lot of people and the knowledge that _everyone_ hated him. If he cared at all about what he'd been involved with, then he carried around a ton of guilt

Well, not everyone hated him, but most people did. Selphie just felt sorry for him. Nobody seemed to understand that he hadn't been to blame for the things that had happened. And it was all over and done with now. There was no fixing it. No taking it back. Time to move on. Maybe with her help, Seifer would be able to pick himself up, dust himself off and do something good in the world.

She couldn't _wait _to get started.

* * *

__

** Wench of Diablos' notes:  
**  
Welcome to the "I Hate Everything About You" revision! The first few chapters of the original story was posted here about a year and a half ago but never finished for various reasons. It was met with some criticism, as well as some praise, but the original version left a lot to be desired. With the help of PodSara, who agreed to Beta read, we were able to make this story into one that we both really like and are both really proud of. It's not just my baby anymore, we're both involved in this one now, so, though my name is on this as the author, let it be known that PodSara did as much writing as I did and took it in directions I would never have even imagined. For starters, the new opening is almost completely her doing, and I absolutely love it. So thank her too, for helping me with this project and for encouraging me to not give up on it.

**PodSara's Notes:**

I hope that we've done well enough a job that you will not be able to tell the difference between who wrote what section. We've tried really hard to make it nearly seamless. We've worked very hard on this, so we hope you're not disappointed if you were a fan of the original post. We think it's better this way, and hope you do too.

r.  



	2. Freedom

**Chapter Two**  
_Freedom_

* * *

For the first time in longer than I could remember, I lay down in a real bed, with real pillows and soft sheets, welcoming the feel of the smooth percale against my skin. Sheets in prison are like sandpaper, stiff and scratchy, over laundered with harsh chemicals, scented heavy with bleach. The pillows, when they let me have one, were heavy and hard, and offered no comfort at all. These pillows were different, almost foreign to me, and someone had scented them with lavender. Selphie, no doubt.

I thought I'd pass out as soon as my head hit the pillow, but I was mistaken. It was too quiet. The bed was too soft. My head was too full of thoughts about the coming days. I didn't sleep at all, I just lay there thinking and listening to the absolute silence around me.

The more I thought about it, the more uncertain I became that I'd be able to do what they'd asked of me. I badly wanted this freedom to last, but I didn't know if I had it in me to go along with it. I'll admit, I was scared. Scared because after just a little taste of the stuff, I'd already started to adapt. I relished it. I liked having my own rooms, and I loved that I'd been given a second chance, and I sincerely wanted things to work out. However, if they didn't, I'd rather die than go back to prison. That was fact.

Eventually, I got up around four, my mind still full of doubts, and put on a pot of coffee. I drank a cup, got the jitters from not being allowed caffeine in three years and then started to feel like I was going to climb the walls. I needed to get out of there and decided to sneak in some training time before everyone else was up.

Early mornings had always been prime time for the training center. Usually, it was empty, which had always meant that I'd been free to fight and do as I pleased. I figured nothing had changed, and set off for the TC, gunblade in hand, prepared to find out just how much work I had ahead of me. After all, it had been three years. Not that I didn't do some fighting in prison, but that was different. In prison, I didn't have the benefit of a weapon, just my fists.

To my surprise, Squall was already in the Training Center, fighting a holographic G-Army elite. I watched in silence, envious of his speed and skill with the blade. I had no doubt, at this point, that Squall Leonhart would be able to beat the crap out of me, without breaking a sweat. Three years behind bars had left me out of shape and out of practice, though I'd spent my half hour of exercise time every day lifting weights at the gym. It may have given me a nice physique, but as far as endurance, I had little to none left.

The Hologram fell and Squall sheathed his blade, looking satisfied but not at all cocky about it. Which was typical. He'd never been the sort to gloat over a victory. Even when he'd beat me during all the sorceress stuff, he'd never rubbed it in. Instead, he'd pleaded with me to back down.

If I'd been smart, I would have listened. Maybe things would have turned out differently.

But, it was over and done with, and there was no room for coulda, woulda, shoulda. I made my choices. I was going to have to live with them.

He must have sensed me behind him, because he turned and gave me an nod of acknowledgement.

"Morning," he said.

I gave him a little salute and stepped forward, taking in the changes he'd made to the Training Center.

"Holographic enemies, hunh?" I asked.

"Cheaper and easier to maintain than the real thing. Bigger variety, too," Squall explained. "Plus, the program only levels up when you do, so there aren't any surprises."

"No more being ambushed by the T-Rexaur?" I asked, amused.

"Not unless you're ready for it."

"That's cool," I said with a nod. I was anxious to fight something, what with my first cup of coffee in three years coursing it's way through my system. Not to mention, three years of anxiety and pent up guilt to burn off.

Squall looked at me and gave me a level but unreadable stare. Even after all this time, I still couldn't tell what he was thinking. Kind of unnerving, even for a tough guy like me.

"How about it, Seifer?" Squall finally asked, lifting his blade a bit. "For old time's sake?"

I wasn't sure if he was being cocky because he knew he'd beat me, or if he just wanted to test my skills. Either way, I didn't have it in me to back down from the challenge, even if I knew I'd lose.

"You're on."

"Live battle mode," Squall said to the holograph system.

"_Engaging live battle. User one, rank A SeeD Commander Squall Leonhart, level ninety-nine. User two, rank twelve Instructor in Training, Seifer Almasy. Level twenty-seven_," came the disembodied voice of a computer. "_System indicates users are not compatible. Continuing in live battle mode may result in injury or death. Do you wish to proceed_?"

"Yes," Squall said.

I was disappointed that it had ranked me at level twenty seven. I'd hoped for a lot more than that, like, somewhere around fifty, but I kept my silence.

"Ready?" he asked.

I nodded and lifted my blade, which felt heavy in my hand all of a sudden. His blade crashed against mine and the battle was on.

I'd like to say that I kicked the crap out of him. I'd like to say that three years behind bars hadn't robbed me of my skills, but I'd be lying to you. I fought valiantly for about ten minutes then lost steam. The battle was over when Squall executed a beautiful spin slash and knocked Hyperion from my hands. The blade spiraled away from me and landed with a clang on the floor.

Squall raised an eyebrow at me, but he didn't try to rub it in. Which almost made it worse. Because if I'd beaten him, I would have rubbed it in, and his lack of conceit meant he was a better man than I. Not that this was ever in question or anything, but it still made me feel like a total jerk.

What bothered me most was that I hadn't even been a challenge for him. Was I so out of shape, or was it that he'd had time to hone his skills through dedicated training?

I decided it was a little of both. I was nowhere near my former skill, and he was leagues beyond where he'd been the last time I'd fought him. It hadn't been an even match by a long shot.

"Not bad," Squall said as he sheathed his blade. "You've got a lot of work to do, but you haven't lost your touch."

I wasn't so much embarrassed as frustrated. I'd known going into it that I would lose, but I hadn't counted on tiring so quickly. I vowed right then that I would spend every free moment I had training. It was the only way I'd ever be able to beat him again, and I wanted that desperately. Not because I held a grudge but because by nature I was competitive, and no amount of time in prison could have taken that out of me.

"_Congratulations, Seifer Almasy. System ranks your new level at thirty-five_."

Squall flashed a half smile and it was my turn to raise an eyebrow. He just shrugged and walked away.

After a moment, he stopped, looked over his shoulder and said, "There are a lot of people who don't want you here."

"Tell me something I don't know."

The real question was, was he one of them? I didn't ask. I wouldn't give him or anyone else the satisfaction. But I was curious. He didn't act like he hated me, but then Squall never really gave anything away. Growing up, I'd never known what he was thinking, and I'd never known if he'd hated me back then, or if he considered me a nuisance, or if he considered me at all. It was the same now. I _still_ couldn't tell.

He turned to face me, crossed his arms and looked me in the eye.

"Don't blow it, Seifer. You won't get another chance."

That statement gave me the answer to my question. Squall had been one of my supporters, though why in Hyne's name he'd vouch for me, I couldn't even begin to comprehend. He had every right to want to lock me up somewhere and forget about me. He shouldn't have cared where I ended up or what happened to me. He shouldn't have cared whether I screwed up again or not. It wasn't like we'd ever been friends, though we had a long, violent history, and I couldn't even imagine us being friends now, but that's what it felt like.

Somehow, I got the impression that his opinion of me had changed. He didn't hate me, he didn't fear me. Respect was the last thing I ever expected to get from Squall Leonhart, but that's exactly what I saw in his face. Respect and understanding.

"We're not that different, you know," he said, as if sensing my confusion. "It could be me in your shoes right now. Except, if it were me, no one would have cared enough to bail my ass out."

So, he knew that Ultimecia could have taken him instead of me. She didn't care which of us it was, so long as she had a strong and skilled Knight to do her dirty work. I just happened to get there first. Lucky me.

I wasn't sure what he meant by no one caring if it had been him, though. Not at first.

Then, I remembered that Squall had been a loner, a quiet kid with no friends to speak of. He hadn't stood out, kept to himself, and the only one who ever talked to him outside of class was Dr. K, and sometimes Quistis, but that was only because she had stalker tendencies and a secret desire to jump his bones and she'd never left him alone.

He let that sink in for a moment before speaking again.

"I train around this time every morning. If you ever fee like sparing, I'll be here," he said and finally walked away.

I decided the next time I faced him, I would at least be able to give him a run for his money.

* * *

As Squall left the training center, he wondered what would come of this situation. There was no doubt in his mind that Seifer had the potential to be great, but he was concerned that it might not work out. Not because he worried that Seifer would get too comfortable and revert back to the childish asshole he'd been, but because there were a lot of people who were not happy with the board's decision. In fact, Squall's biggest concern was for Seifer's _safety_ within the walls of Balamb Garden. A regression into old habits would be easily dealt with, compared to what might happen should someone actively seek revenge against Seifer. Squall had already heard the whispers and the complaints from staff and cadets alike. They didn't want him here, and some of them had said more than they should have, one or two even threatened to kill Seifer while he slept.

Squall wondered why he even cared about what happened to Seifer Almasy. They'd never been friends, and it wasn't as if Squall had any real reason to want to be. The only reason he was here at _all_ was because of Cid and Rinoa. They'd been fighting to get Seifer out of Galbadia for a long time, and now that he was here, it seemed nobody was happy about it, except for Cid.

Still, Squall could tell that Seifer was a different man now. The fire in him had burned out a little, though Squall could tell there was still plenty of it left, just not the kind that would burn out of control like before. And his burdens were written all over his face. No doubt, guilt was his constant companion. No doubt, he'd had his share of sleepless nights.

In spite of his reservations, Squall knew he had to trust this, and trust Cid's ultimate decision.

Cid had an uncanny ability to read and understand people and their potential, even if they didn't realize it themselves. After all, somehow, Cid had known that Squall had it in him to lead Garden during the last Sorceress War, when no one else around them, and certainly not Squall himself, had seen it. He'd even known that sending Squall to help the Forest Owls would change everything, if only that it meant he'd meet Rinoa. Cid had _known_ back then that the two of them were destined to be together, and had admitted as much to Squall. So, Squall had to follow Cid's instincts and trust them now, and he hoped that this was how it was supposed to be.

It chilled Squall to think about how it might have been him _instead_ of Seifer. Had Seifer resisted Ultimecia, she would have come for Squall. It was just lucky for Squall that Seifer had grandiose dreams of being the Knight of a powerful Sorceress and had easily bought into the pipe dream of having everything he ever wanted come true. Squall was almost certain that if Ultimecia had come to him, he wouldn't have been able to resist her either. Not because he shared Seifer's romantic dream, but because back then, Squall had believed in nothing. Sure, he'd been able to recite Garden directives by rote, but he'd only been there because there was nowhere else for him to go. He didn't really care about anything, or anyone. How easily Ultimecia could have manipulated him, being that he was just an empty soul with no one to believe in or turn to.

Which was why he _did _feel some sympathy for Seifer, and why he had to grudgingly respect the man, even if he didn't exactly deserve it. Because he knew, under the right circumstances, Seifer might become his most powerful ally. And for all Seifer's shortcomings, he was a man that Squall wanted on his side in a fight.

* * *

Later, I reported to Selphie's office, ready for her to put me to work, but not knowing exactly what she had in store for me. She was already there, looking bright and perky, as though she'd mainlined a pot of strong coffee. Which, I figured, was a strong possibility.

"Hiya," she said cheerily. "Sleep well?"

I ignored her question and looked around at the mess inside the office.

"This looks like a storage closet," I said.

"Well, at the moment it is, but we're going to clean it out, paint it and it'll be good as new. Then, we can start planning all kinds of stuff. We can talk about it while we work. I bet you have all kinds of great ideas, since you kinda used to be the cool guy around here."

I raised an eyebrow at her. _Cool guy_. Gimme a break.

"I'm so glad you're here to help me," she continued. "I've been begging for help to get this thing started for years, but until now we didn't have the room or the staff to do it. But now you're here and it's going to work out, just like I hoped it would! We're going to have so much fun. I'm sure were going to make a great team, don't you think?"

I'd been in the room two minutes, and already, she was making my head hurt with her chatter. I wasn't sure how involved in this thing I was supposed to be, but I was getting the impression that she expected a lot. It was on the tip of my tongue to say something smart, but I held back. If what Cid said was true, then Selphie was my lifeline. My judge and jury, and pissing her off would be a one way ticket back into the slammer.

"I've got so many plans, Seifer!" she said happily. "And with your help, I'll finally be able to make them happen. I'm _so_ glad you're here. And I've got a surprise for you later. But first, lets get some work done."

She had a surprise for _me_? Part of me was curious to know what it was, and the other part dreaded it. For all I knew, she was having my rooms painted a hideous shade of bile yellow or something while I was out. Or perhaps it might involve bubble gum, flowers and lemonade, which might be even worse.

"You want some coffee before we get started?" she asked. "I've got a pot on in the other room."

"God, yes," I mumbled and followed her to the room that had once been the preschool. I was going to need a pot to myself to keep up with her.

"Oh, before I forget," she said over her shoulder as she poured me a giant sized cup of coffee for herself, "I've got a sign-up sheet for you."

"A sign-up sheet?" I asked.

"Mm-hmm. We'll need student volunteers to help us out with all our projects. Part of your job will be to get people to sign up to help us out."

Oh. She wanted me to recruit people to help with all this lunacy. Did she forget who she was talking to? I wouldn't be able to get within ten feet of anyone without them freaking out or running away. She had to know that, or else she was just really naive.

I sipped my coffee and looked around the room, trying to convince myself to get on board with all this nonsense. I decided that maybe teaching moombas to read wasn't such a bad idea. Probably easier than dealing with this day in and day out. Already, I could tell it was going to be a lot harder than I thought it would be. Mostly because I would have to repress the urge to choke Selphie on a minute-by-minute basis. Her chatter and enthusiasm made my head spin.

On the other hand, if I could get through it, I'd be a free man with a good job and a future that didn't involve daily beatings by prison guards and food that actually had flavor. Not to mention the luxury of showering alone and a sweet sound system in which to play my favorite music at a ridiculously high volume.

She chattered on, but I barely listened. She talked too fast for me to process it all at once. Instead, I enjoyed the coffee and inspected the room. If I was going to do this, I figured I'd better familiarize myself with my surroundings. The room itself wasn't anything special, but it was large and had potential. I thought about what _I_ would have wanted in an activity center, about what might make it worth actually using, assuming we'd had one back then.

"We need a pool table," I blurted out, interrupting whatever Selphie was saying.

Selphie's face brightened. "That's a great idea! See, I knew we'd be on the same page. Oh, this is going to work out great. I'm _so _glad you're here!"

I thought about how glad it would make me to push her off a cliff. From then on, I decided, it would be best just to keep my mouth shut and my ideas to myself.

After that, she put me to work, and I have to admit, she was a slave driver. Not that she didn't do her part, because she did. She put everything she had into hauling the boxes down to MD storage, barely taking a breath as she chattered at me about all her plans and ideas. We must have taken fifteen loads of boxes down by lunch time, at which point, she grinned and looked around at the now barren office.

"I'm starving," she announced. "Let's go get a bite to eat, shall we?"

I was hungry too, but I'd had just about all I could take of her. I'd lost count of how many times I'd considered duct taping her mouth shut. Not to mention all the other horrible things my mind conjured up. Spending the day working like a dog while she spewed forth her grand plans was one thing. Actually sitting down and having lunch with her, as if we were friends, was another.

"I think I'll pass," I said.

"Oh come on," she whined. "You've got to be hungry, and besides, I have a surprise for you. Remember?"

Right. The surprise.

With great reluctance, I agreed and followed her to the cafeteria, wishing she'd drop dead. She was being so Hyne-damned _nice_ to me, and I felt like the world's biggest jerk for hating her for it.

I sat down to a plate of the famous grilled Balamb fish, which I hadn't had in three years, and took a bite. It tasted divine, especially when compared to the cardboard flavored 'meat' we got in prison. It _almost_ made having lunch with Selphie worth it.

"Seifer!" a familiar voice called and I looked over my shoulder to see my two best friends in the world approaching. It was like the freaking sun coming out after a week of torrential rains, let me tell you. I got to my feet and grinned.

For a second, I thought I was actually going to _cry_.

Shut up. You'd feel the same way if you were me.

"Welcome home, ya know?" Raijin bellowed and gave me a fierce buddy hug. He almost crushed my rib cage, but I didn't care. I'd missed the both of them more than I would ever admit to either, and I'd deal with a couple of bruised ribs if it meant my Posse was reunited.

"Good to see you, man," I said and then turned to Fujin and wrapped my arms around her, forgetting that she wasn't overly fond of being touched. I didn't care. It was the best thing that had happened all day and it gave me a little hope that maybe I'd be able to handle this after all.

Fujin kicked me in the shin and I let her go, laughing even though it hurt just as much as it used to. At least some things hadn't changed.

"Selphie told us you were coming back, ya know?" Raijin said, "And asked if we wanted to join you for lunch, ya know?"

I looked at Selphie and raised an eyebrow at her.

"Surprise," she said, grinning.

For just a split second, I felt like hugging her, too. But then I remembered that the only thing that could have made me happier than seeing my Posse again would have involved feeding her to a ruby dragon.

Still, it was the nicest thing anyone had done for me in a long time, and I had to admit that I was grateful. While I may be the worlds biggest asshole, at that moment, I was a _humbled_ asshole.

* * *

Not only did we have lunch together, my Posse accompanied me to Balamb, along with Selphie, to purchase new clothing, since what I had didn't quite fit anymore, thanks to my bulked up physique. Everything was at least three years out of style anyway. It was time for some new things. With them at my side, the world righted itself again and I felt as if I were on more stable ground. I didn't even care that the civilians in town were glaring at me with hatred in their eyes and I didn't care that Selphie talked a blue streak all the way through town. I had my Posse back and that was all that mattered.

In the clothing store, I poked through the racks without enthusiasm as Selphie inspected a table of folded shirts with great care. She picked one up and showed it to me.

"What about green?" she asked. "Goes with your eyes."

"No," I said. I glanced around and sighed. "None of this stuff is me. Too preppy."

"Preppy's in, ya know?" Raijin said.

I looked at him as if he had moombas crawling out his nose. What the hell did Raijin know about what was 'In?!'

"I don't want preppy," I said irritably.

"You're going to be an instructor, Seifer," Selphie pointed out. "You might have to start dressing the part."

"Cid didn't say anything about that," I protested. "Besides, I'll be wearing a uniform in class, so who cares?"

"I mean outside of class," she said. "Don't you want to look professional?"

"I want to look like _me_, not some preppy jerk."

Defeated, Selphie shrugged and went back to the table.

"How about black?"

I sighed. "Fine. Black. Whatever."

She tossed me the shirt.

"Go try it on," she commanded.

Raijin pushed a pair of jeans into my hands, too, and I glared at him.

"What is this, a conspiracy?!"

"Just try it, ya know?"

I felt like the two of them had ganged up on me and dragged me into an episode of "Ambush Makeover." Seriously, this preppy thing was not me. I doubted it ever would be. But, to shut them up, I tried them on and groaned when I looked in the mirror. I looked like an idiot.

"Come out and show us," Selphie said.

"No," I said, glaring at my reflection.

"Come on," she insisted. "Or we're coming in there."

At that moment, I thought spending the rest of my life in the brig was a great idea. I stepped out of the fitting room and stood there defeated while Selphie and Raijin inspected me critically.

"Looks good," Selphie said.

"I look like a metrosexual," I said flatly. "On his way to the gay club."

"No you don't," Selphie countered. "You look _hot_."

"This is a good look for you, ya know?" Raijin said. "It says young and hip, ya know?"

"Young and hip?!" I asked, feeling absolutely helpless and completely betrayed. "Since when do you give a _crap _about fashion?"

"Things change, ya know?" Raijin said with a shrug.

I looked to Fujin for help, but she just shrugged.

"Thanks a lot," I said to her. "You've been a big help."

"I think you should get it," Selphie said.

"The jeans, maybe," I conceded. "The shirt, no way in hell. Aren't there any stores that sell non-preppy stuff. Metal band t-shirts, leather, dog collars with spikes on them?"

Selphie looked appalled.

"Look, you have to have a couple of things that are a little dressier. A couple of nice shirts and pants. That's all we're saying."

"Fine," I grumbled, "but after this, I want some real clothes."

"There's a punk shop around the corner, ya know?" Raijin said.

"That sounds more like it," I said.

The clothing at the punk place was more my style. There, I snatched up a couple pairs of black cargo pants, biker boots and a black trench coat, while Selphie and Raijin tried on black wigs. They laughed and joked with one another, which struck me as being _very_ odd. I'd never imagined my friends getting along with any of them, but it seemed Selphie and Raijin were acting like they'd been friends their whole lives. I half expected them to link pinkies and declare one another their BFF.

I'll be honest, it annoyed the hell out of me. They weren't supposed to be friends. They weren't supposed to even like each other, and I felt something like betrayal as I watched them goof off together.

I selected a couple more T-shirts and went over to the poster display where Fujin waited, looking very uncomfortable. She obviously wasn't into the idea that Selphie and Raijin were buddies now either, which was a relief. At least I knew what to expect from her.

"What," she barked when I flashed her a grin.

"It's really good to see you guys," I said.

I plucked a t-shirt off the rack, which advertised one of my favorite bands, Sephiroth, and added it to my collection.

"Wimp," she said, which made me laugh. I'd missed her insults and put downs, not that there'd been any shortage of those in Galbadia's prison system, but coming from her, it was different.

"Maybe I am," I agreed.

Over in the corner, Selphie and Raijin were inspecting knee high black patent leather platform boots. The kind stripper's wear.

Which reminded me that I hadn't gotten laid in three years _either_.

"Do you have these in a five?" Selphie asked the clerk, who glared hatred back at the perky little imp. Selphie didn't seem to notice.

I selected a couple more shirts, one of which said, "You Suck," on it, and stepped into the fitting room. I could hear Raijin and Selphie giggling outside, and I knew they were up to no good when I heard him say, "You should try it on, ya know."

When I emerged, Selphie was still in the fitting room, and I heard her giggling to herself.

"What's she doing?" I asked Raijin, more annoyed than curious.

"Trying out a new look, ya know?"

I'll be honest. The idea of Selphie clad in non-cheerleader clothing intrigued me. I couldn't picture her in anything but those damned yellow sun dresses she seemed to live in.

I shifted from foot to foot while I waited, thinking about the months to come. Did I really want this? And could I really handle it, or was I about to make a huge mistake? Was it really even worth it? I wasn't sure, but I was starting to have doubts, beginning with my ability to control my mouth and temper around Selphie. I hoped that she was something I could get used to, and tune out eventually, or else I was going to go starkers.

When Selphie stepped out of the fitting room, my jaw dropped. She looked sexy as _hell _in a Goth version of a school girl outfit, the platform boots, and her shirt opened just enough to reveal a hit of cleavage. Around her throat was a spiked dog collar.

Hyne, if she weren't so _nuts_, I might have been interested, especially if she be willing to dress like that sometimes. But then I remembered that she never shut up and seemed to think stickers, unicorns and rainbows were the end-all, be-all, best thing since hot dogs.

The outfit _was_ hot, but the girl in it was certifiable, and annoying.

"I think I just found my masquerade day costume," she said, looking pleased. "Maybe Irvy could dress up like a Monk of Hyne."

Irvy. The cowboy. Her boyfriend.

"Oh, yeah," Raijin agreed. "Looks good on you, ya know?"

I was getting impatient. "Can we get out of here?"

"Yeah, we should be getting back," Selphie agreed. "I'll be out in a minute."

I paid for my things, and then not so patiently waited as Selphie purchased the outfit, dog collar and boots. My mind conjured up the image of her wearing it, and turned it into something dirty. I shook it off and tried to tell myself that fantasizing about her wouldn't help matters any.

As we headed back, I only half listened to Selphie and Raijin's chatter. I was going to have to get a grip if I was going to make it through this, but there was absolutely no doubt in my mind that this was going to be a slow, bumpy road to hell.

--

A/N Sorry for the delay. Computer crashed, taking the final drafts with it. Fortunately, PodSara still had all the drafts. Anyway, here's chappy two. Expect an update around Tuesday or so.

Enjoy, and don't forget to review!!

Sara and the Wench….


	3. Unexpected Allies

**Chapter Three**  
_Unexpected Allie_s

* * *

**I**

* * *

Once I'd ditched Selphie and my posse, I headed to the canteen to buy some necessities. In my hurry to stop the madness earlier, I'd neglected to buy important items like socks, underwear and a few luxury items that the stores didn't carry. So, clad in my new jeans and new _You Suck_ t-shirt, I perused the recently expanded Canteen.

It was weird to me that Selphie got along with my Posse so well. Fujin, who should have been extremely perturbed about having to hang with the cheerleader, had passively accepted it without comment _or_ violence, which was a first. Fujin had been annoyed, but she hadn't done anything to shut Selphie up, either, and that wasn't like Fujin at _all_. She didn't get into all that girly stuff, and certainly wasn't into fashion, trends and all the gossipy chit-chat.

I didn't get it. And I didn't get why Selphie and Raijin were joined at the hip like they'd been best friends forever. They were _my_ Posse, not hers. I didn't want to have to share them. Not with her. Selphie wasn't one of us and had _never_ been one of us. It bugged the hell out of me. As if they went shopping together all the time. As if they hung together all the time. I felt like I was in some kind of alternate reality.

As I sorted through the bins of CD's at the Canteen, I selected a few I'd missed while I'd been incarcerated, plus the new _Sephiroth_ release to add to my collection.  
After a moment, I realized Rinoa was standing next to me. She picked out a CD and handed it to me without saying anything.

"_Criminalis_," I said, reading the title aloud. "Is this some sort of joke?"

"I think you'll like them," she said simply. "They sound like _Jenova_ but heavier."

"Since when have _you_ liked Punk?" I asked in disbelief.

"I _don't_, but Squall listens to this stuff, so I kinda know which ones are decent."

I looked at the back of the CD case. I liked the art, at least.

"Squall's into Punk?" I asked.

I don't know why that was a surprise to me. After all, the guy _did_ wear leather pants.

Rinoa nodded. "_Hyne's Vengeance, Disciples of the Dead, Sephiroth, Slaves of Shiva, Underworld Damage, Jecht, Doomtrain_. You name it, he's got it, and I am forced to listen to it daily. It's kind of starting to grow on me. A little."

She'd named off bands that I actually_ liked_, and I found myself wondering what else Squall and I might have in common, besides our talent with gunblade and our convoluted history.

"Thanks," I said. "Any other recommendations?"

She poked through the bin and handed me another disk.

"_Holy Stone. _Never heard of them."

"If you like all that other stuff, you'll like them too. They're one of Squall's favorites."

"Cool. Hope they're good."

"They're _loud_," she said. "So, can I interest you in a cup of coffee, maybe a little conversation?"

I shrugged, wondering what she really wanted, but I didn't have much planned for the afternoon.

"Why the hell not?"

I paid for my purchases and followed her to a gourmet coffee bar in the Quad that I didn't even know existed until then.

Squall sure put some thought into the expansion. Holographic monsters, a Canteen that carried CD's, houseplants and pints of designer ice cream, among a thousand other little luxuries, Selphie's student activities center, an off-site day care center, coffee bars. What next? I wondered. A night club?

Which, by the way, wasn't a bad idea.

We sat down at a table in the Quad, near the fountain and I looked around at the place. We were getting strange looks from the Cadets and Faculty that had gathered in search of mid afternoon sustenance. Curiosity for Rinoa, death and hatred for me. I guess it was to be expected. After all, everyone knew what I'd done, and everyone knew she'd fought me and that I'd betrayed her. To see us sitting together, drinking coffee like we were old friends must have seemed like insanity to them.

Which, it _was_. Rinoa had no reason to even want to speak to me ever again. I wouldn't have blamed her if she hadn't.

"I just wanted you to know that I don't hate you," Rinoa said. "I kind of know what it was like for you. You know, being possessed and all."

I didn't say anything, but I supposed she _would _be able to understand it better than anyone else around. She'd been used as a puppet for a period of time, too. Another body to do Ultimecia's bidding.

"Anyway, Zell's the only one of us who still hates your guts. Well, Quistis is kind of on the fence, but she doesn't _hate_ you," she informed me. "The rest of us felt kind of bad because it wasn't really your fault."

Zell had always hated me. I doubted anything would change that. And Quistis and I had a rocky history, so that wasn't a surprise either. But to know the rest felt bad was something of a surprise, and I wondered why they even cared. If I'd been on the other side of the fence, I wouldn't have given two shits about it. Over, done with. History. It made me re-evaluate everything I thought I knew about them.

"Who's idea was it to make me an instructor?" I asked, curious.

"Mine," she admitted. "You getting out of E-District has been a possibility since the beginning, it's just that nothing could be done until recently. It just happened to coincide with Ngyen's retirement. Which works out for you, and for us."

"Why me?" I asked.

"Can you think of anyone else more qualified, besides Squall?"

"You have a point."

"So how are things going so far?"

I half shrugged, not wanting to spill my troubles on the one person who was responsible for my freedom. "Not bad, I guess."

"I bet you're having a hard time dealing with Selphie."

"What makes you say that?" I asked.

"Because I know _you_, and I know_ her_, and I have a feeling she's making you nuts."

"A little, but I'm dealing."

She smiled at me as if she knew better and shook her head.

"You've changed."

"Blame it on the Galbadian Prison System," I said. "But while we're on the subject, Squall's not exactly as I remember him, either."

"The war changed him. It changed everyone. But I think it changed _him_ the most," Rinoa agreed. "And it changed you too. You're a lot less cocky than I remember."

I shrugged. "Got nothing to be cocky about."

Rinoa put her hand over mine and gave me a sympathetic look.

"It's going to be really tough from here on out."

"I know that."

"I'm sure you do," she said. "But listen, there's no reason why you and I can't still be friends. I know what you went through, and I know you didn't mean for anyone to get hurt, so if you ever need to talk to someone, you can come to me. I'll listen."

I stared at her, unsure of what to say. I had no doubt that she knew all about it, but I didn't know if talking about it would help. It wouldn't erase what I'd done, and it wouldn't change the world's opinion of me, so what was the point? But I appreciated her support. It mean a lot to me to know she forgave me my sins, since she was the one I'd betrayed in the end.

"Thanks," I finally said. "I'll keep it in mind."

We chatted for a while, mostly about Squall's plans for Garden and about the summer we'd spent together in Timber. I was glad we could laugh about it, and that there were no hard feelings about how things ended. She was the only girl I'd ever allowed myself to love, if only because she was the only one I'd ever met who was just as passionate as I was, and the only one with the courage to follow through when it came to her convictions.

You might think that because I had loved her once, I was jealous of Squall. Back then, I _was _jealous of what I saw growing between them, but I'd had time to get over her. And, as we sat there, reliving our shared past over coffee, I knew that she and I were not meant to be anything_ but _friends. She would never have been happy with me, and I would have hurt her eventually, even if I never meant to. She belonged with Squall.

When Quistis appeared, I greeted her, taking note of the cool look she gave me. I imagined she wished me dead, no matter _what_ Rinoa had said.

"Seifer," she said, giving me a curt nod. "Welcome back."

"Thanks."

"I'm glad I ran into you," Quistis said. "Cid wanted me to remind you to swing by the armory to sign out some equipment for your classes."

"Okay," I said, thinking that I'd do it before class in the morning.

"They close in fifteen minutes," Quistis said, raising an eyebrow at me. "You should get a move on."

The way she was ordering me around kind of pissed me off, and I had to remind myself that she _was_ the assistant commander, and she had every right to do so. It was her tone that bugged me most. Like I was some kind of lower life form, incapable of thinking for myself.

"Fine," I said with all the restraint I could muster. "Rinoa, it's been nice talking to you."

"You too," she said, sounding sincere. "We'll have to do this again some time."

I didn't bother to say anything else to Quistis. I know it was rude, and probably insubordinate, but I didn't give a crap. She could write me up for all I cared.

* * *

**II**

**

* * *

**

The armory wasn't hard to find. It was right next to the new outdoor firing rage, where I'd seen students practicing earlier in the day, and it was large enough to hold all of the firearms and munitions in a city the size of Esthar. I wondered what they needed that much space for until I walked in and took a look around. Several of every gun used in modern warfare hung from racks throughout the place, along with some stuff I'd never seen before. There was something on a stand in one corner that appeared to be a massive chain gun, and next to it was what might have been a cannon of some type.

In the middle of the room was an actual Galbadian F-class _tank _that had been modified to suit Garden purposes, complete with beefed up armor and a matching pair of missile launchers. Behind that was a large glass case featuring antique firearms and an old gunblade.

I stepped closer to inspect the lade and saw a card next to it, identifying it as the model used in the film, _The Sorceress' Knight_. I shook my head. I'd loved that movie when I was a kid, and it was the source of my adolescent romantic dream.

As I moved toward the counter, I heard a peal of feminine laughter, followed by a man's hearty chuckle. Carefully, I peered through the open doorway behind the counter and saw a pair of gorgeous legs against a field of dark brown fabric.

"You're so funny, Irvy," the girl said, adding a giggle.

"Am I now?" Irvy said, sounding amused. "Look, why don't you swing by later?"

"What about your girlfriend?" the girl teased.

"You let me worry about that," Irvy said. "I gotta close up shop now, so you go ahead and take off and I'll see you later, okay?"

So, this was_ Irvy_, the cowboy. I assumed Selphie was the girlfriend he wasn't all that worried about. What a _jerk_. And what the hell was Selphie thinking? She _had_ to know Irvine Kinneas was kind of a scumbag. If she didn't, then she was dumber than I thought.

Annoyed, I reached out and hit the bell on the counter.

* * *

**III**

* * *

**  
**  
Irvine was more than a little surprised to hear someone needed assistance this late in the afternoon, and then, he started to worry that he and Stosha, his assistant, had been overheard. The last thing he needed was for this to get back to Selphie. For one thing, it would break her heart, and for another, Irvine and Stosha weren't serious about one another. Stosha was just a fling.

He'd only invited Stosha to his room because he knew Selphie was going to be busy with her new project, and because he didn't want to be alone. He hated being alone, and Stosha was willing to keep him company. Besides, he and Selphie were on the rocks anyway. Not that Selphie_ knew _that yet. Irvine hadn't the courage to tell her the truth, and he sincerely didn't want to hurt her, yet he knew he was going to. Might as well put it off, since it seemed Selphie hadn't noticed anything amiss.

The bell rang again and Irvine stepped out to find one very irritated looking Seifer Almasy staring back at him.

"Sorry about that," Irvine said cordially. "I was just finishing up some last minute business. What can I help you with?"

"Cid sent me to sign out a target pistol, for a class," Seifer said, giving him a frosty look.

What the hell was that all about? What was with the murderous look? Did Seifer still hold some kind of grudge against him because of the war? Sure, Irvine had shot him a couple of times, but Seifer had done_ his _share of damage, too. In Irvine's mind, they were even. It was over. Done with. No hard feelings.

Irvine had known all about Seifer coming back, and he was already a step ahead of him. He'd received the paperwork this morning and had already prepared for Seifer's visit. He passed the paperwork to Seifer so that he could read and sign on the dotted line and went to the cabinet for the appropriate pistol.

"Twenty-two _Diablos_ long barrel," Irvine told him, sliding the gun across the counter, along with a canvas case and a couple of boxes of ammo. "_Best_ target pistol ever made. Deadly accurate, no recoil, semi-automatic, and holds ten rounds in the magazine. You'll like it."

Seifer gave it a cursory glance and slipped the gun into the case, then pocketed the shells.

"Need anything else from me?" Seifer asked.

"You're all set for now," Irvine said, "but if you've got any questions, just ask."

"Will do," Seifer said.

"So, you're helping Selphie with the Student Center," Irvine said, trying to be friendly for Selphie's sake.

At the mention of Selphie's name, Seifer's expression changed from annoyance to anger. Irvine figured Selphie was already on Seifer's nerves from the look of things. Not that Irvine could blame him. Selphie was a great girl, but best dealt with in small doses. From what Irvine had heard, the poor guy was pretty much tethered to Selphie until further notice.

"For now," Seifer said. If he'd been frosty before, now Seifer was downright frigid.

"She's pretty hyped about you being here," Irvine offered.

"So I've noticed."

"She's kind of a bulldozer when it comes to getting her way."

"Bulldozer sums it up, yeah."

Irvine grinned, thinking that maybe he could help the guy out. After all, from what Rinoa had told him, Seifer wasn't _completely_ to blame for everything that went down. Irvine felt for the guy, especially knowing that he'd done time for it when no one else involved had.

"A word of advice," Irvine said as he leaned across the counter, "whatever Selphie says, just go along with it, okay? It's just easier that way."

Seifer regarded Irvine for a moment, his expression now as inscrutable as Squall's, but then he nodded and pushed the sign out sheet back across the counter.

"I'll keep that in mind."

With that, Seifer turned and walked out of the armory without so much as a good-bye.

_What a dick_, Irvine thought. He almost felt sorry for Selphie.

Well, whatever. If it meant Selphie was finally going to have her dream come true, then Irvine knew she was going to make it happen, no matter what.

It was one of the things that Irvine loved about Selphie Tilmitt in the beginning, and now it was the thing that was tearing them apart.

* * *

**IV**

* * *

After I left the Armory, I returned to my room, flopped down on the couch and lay there in silence. I was suddenly a lot more tired than I'd thought. It had been a long weird day, and I wasn't used to cramming so much into my daylight hours.

As I lay there, I wondered if I could really do this without fucking it up. It was going to take everything I had in me to hold back my smart ass comments, and I'd never been good at keeping my mouth shut. Believe me, I_ wanted _to change. I wanted to be one of the good guys, and I wanted this to work out in my favor. I just didn't know how I was going to do that with Selphie as my 'mentor.' Not to mention, most of these people thought I was a psycho killer and treated me as such. And I didn't even know if I had it in me to _care_ enough to change things. After all, I wasn't used to caring about anything but myself.

See, the thing about prison is you don't have to think about much. Your day is planned out and there's never any deviation unless you get mouthy, then you earn some time in solitary, where you're all alone with nothing to do for weeks at a time but sit there in your cell. There's no hope, at least, there wasn't for me, so there was nothing to prove. I didn't _have _to give a damn because I'd thought I was a lifer, and when there's nothing to look forward to, there's no reason to bother.

But now I had something to prove, to myself and to everyone around me, and I wasn't sure I could pull it off. I'd gotten used to not giving two shits about what happened to me or what anyone thought of me. Everyone around me was incarcerated for a reason, and most of them were violent offenders, some of which had done things more horrific and disgusting than I had. All around me were murderers, rapists, terrorists and child molesters. Monsters that had no more right to live than I did for their crimes. In a way, it was easier than this because those guys didn't care either.

I drifted off to sleep with these concerns floating around in my head, and for a second I wondered if I should spare myself the agony and just tell Cid to lock me up. At least then I couldn't let anyone down.

* * *

**V**

* * *

A loud thump woke Selphie from a sound sleep. At first, she thought she'd dreamed it, but then she heard it again, and this time, it was followed by a low groan, and then laughter. She sat up and listened close. It had come from Seifer's room.

Selphie scowled and climbed out of bed. She wondered if he had a girl over there, and then wondered what kind of girl would bother with a guy who'd just gotten out of_ prison_. Not that Selphie held that against him, but still, it seemed like everyone avoided him like a horrible disease. Of course, that _might_ be the attraction for some girls. He was a bad boy, and before all the controversy started, he _did_ have quite the reputation as a ladies man.

Annoyed, Selphie slipped her feet into a pair of fuzzy yellow house shoes and stomped toward the door.

She heard another loud thump and then the sounds of several pairs of feet moving at high speed down the hall. Furious, Selphie threw open her own door in time to see several figures disappear down the dark corridor, and she could hear their laughter echo in their wake.

What in the world?

Seifer's visitors had left his door slightly ajar in their haste to leave the scene. Weak light spilled out, and there was not a sound inside. Confused, Selphie pushed the door open.

"Seifer?" she whispered.

When there was no answer, she stepped inside and looked around.

There on the floor, beside the couch, lay one Seifer Almasy, his nose bleeding and he was apparently unconscious. Selphie didn't know what she expected to find, but it wasn't this.

"Seifer!" she cried and knelt down beside him.

He opened his eyes at the sound of her voice.

"Goway," he mumbled.

"Who did this to you?" she demanded as she helped him into a sitting position.

Seifer wiped his bloody lip with the back of his hand and shook his head.

"Nobody."

"Don't lie to me. I saw them leave," she said.

"None of your beeswax," he grumbled.

So, he wasn't going to talk about it. _Fine. _Still, he needed to be patched up. It looked like whomever she'd seen had beaten him up pretty bad. Selphie couldn't in good conscience let him suffer like this. His lip was split, his nose looked broken, and his left eye was nearly swollen shut. It ticked Selphie off to know that someone at Garden would do this, but it wasn't really a surprise either. She knew about the petitions and the rumors. She knew there were a lot of people who didn't want him here and they wouldn't listen to the truth about Seifer's role in the war. He was someone to blame, and that was enough for them.

"I'll be right back with the first aid kit," she said.

Seifer was getting to his feet when she returned with the supplies, but he doubled over, grimacing and clutching his side as if in intense pain. Selphie stepped forward and slipped herself under his arm so that he could use her as a crutch. She lead him to the couch and pushed him gently down onto it. He leaned against the cushions and shut his eyes.

"You gonna tell me who did this?" she asked as she uncapped a potion.

"It doesn't matter," he said. "I deserve a lot worse."

"Nobody _deserves_ to be beaten up," she said.

"Fuck," he muttered and clutched his ribs again.

Selphie guessed that at least one rib was broken, probably more. He shifted away from her as she pressed a potion soaked wad of gauze to his swollen eye.

"Sit still," she chastised.

"Leave me alone," he growled and gave her a hard shove that almost sent her to the floor.

"Will you stop trying to be such a tough guy, and let me help you?" she asked. "You're _hurt_."

"I'm_ fine_," he hissed. "Just leave me the hell alone."

Selphie ignored his command and tended to his bleeding nose. She was fuming over this. Who ever had done this needed to be punished. There was no reason to resort to this kind of behavior, and she knew that if Cid were to find out, the students or faculty responsible would be suspended or maybe even terminated. That was fine with Selphie. She didn't want to work with people who did this sort of thing. If it was a couple of students, then they should be expelled.

Without warning, Seifer reached out and grabbed her by the wrist.

"I can do it myself," he said and snatched the gauze from her hand.

He let her wrist go and applied some of the potion to his wounds. He was doing a lousy job of fixing himself, Selphie noticed. It was making her crazy to watch his half hearted attempts to tend to himself and she was tempted to take over again, no matter how loudly he protested.

"You missed a spot," she said and pointed to an abrasion on his cheek.

He glared at her.

"Why are you still here?"

Exasperated, she snatched the potion back from him, unable to resist any longer. She couldn't sit there and watch while someone was in pain.

"Because you got your butt kicked and you can't do this by yourself. Now shut up and lean back so I can fix your ribs."

When he didn't obey, Selphie gave him a shove and he flopped back and slumped against the arm rest. Selphie was surprised Seifer didn't continue to protest, but it seemed all the fight had gone out of him. He must be hurt worse than he was letting on, Selphie guessed as she resumed her role as caretaker.

Unlike Irvine, who was lean and not so very muscular, Seifer's physique was clearly defined in a hunky male model kind of way. It was all Selphie could do to keep from drooling. She wondered as she applied the potion to his battered chest, what it might be like to have those strong arms wrapped around her. She was willing to bet he was an absolute brute in bed, too.

Selphie blushed at her own crude thoughts and prayed that Seifer hadn't noticed. It wasn't like her to think about anyone but Irvine, but she couldn't help but admire Seifer while no one was looking.

"You ok?" she asked.

He nodded, but didn't open his eyes.

She noticed several long, ugly scars that crisscrossed his chest and traced one delicately with her fingertips. There were at least ten, possibly fifteen of them, and they looked as if they'd been deep, and most likely had gone untreated. Who would do that, Selphie wondered.

"What happened?" she asked.

Seifer suddenly sat up and grabbed her by the wrist. There was a strange, half crazed look in his eyes that told Selphie she'd crossed a line.

"Get out. Now."

"Seifer . . ." she protested.

With an angry growl, Seifer picked her up and threw her over his shoulder in a fireman's carry.

"Hey! Put me down!" she cried and began to pound his back with her fists.

When Seifer didn't release her, she started to kick her feet, too. Her left foot caught him square in the stomach, and he dropped her, doubled over, and grunted. Selphie fell gracelessly to the floor. The breath was knocked from her lungs, and she was momentarily unable to draw another one. After a second, she sat up, gasping for air.

From his place on the floor beside her, he said, "What the hell did you do that for?"

Selphie coughed. "I _told_ you to put me down."

"You didn't have to kick me."

"You didn't have to be such a butt head!"

He stared at her in disbelief.

"You think I'm a butt head?"

"Yeah, I do. A great big, huge, giant butthead!"

"You're dating that scumbag and you think _I'm_ the butt head. That's rich."

"Don't call him that!" Selphie cried.

She didn't know what Seifer had against Irvine, since he'd been one of the people who'd voted to bring him back. But maybe Seifer didn't know that. Maybe no one had told him how the vote went. Either way, she hadn't a clue why Seifer thought Irvine was a scumbag. Irvine was the sweetest, most wonderful boyfriend a girl could ever want and he loved her. He told her so every single day. What did Seifer know about that? _Nothing_, that's what.

"I'll call it like I see it, babe," Seifer spat.

"He's_ not _a scumbag!"

"Just keep telling yourself that."

"You don't even know him!"

"Yeah, well. I've seen him when you're not around, and believe me, he's _not_ missing you."

"What's_ that _supposed to mean?!"

"It means he's playing you, only you're too stupid to see it."

Selphie burst into tears, half wounded and half angry that Seifer would make up a story about Irvine just to make her mad.

Seifer was wrong. She knew he was wrong because Irvine loved her. He'd loved her since they were kids. He'd told her so, and that she was the only girl for him, and Selphie believed him.

Besides, Irvine wouldn't do that to her. Seifer was just trying to upset her. That had to be it.

"You're wrong," she said and got to her feet, sniffling.

"Get out of my room."

Seifer kicked open the door and shoved her into the hallway. Then, he slammed the door in her face, leaving her confused and hurt. All she wanted to do was help him, and this was how he acted? Maybe Cid was wrong about him. Maybe he really was a heartless monster, just like everyone thought he was.

As Selphie pushed the door to her own room open, she decided that next time, she wouldn't bother to help him out. Let him suffer alone.

* * *

**VI**

* * *

As soon as I'd locked the door behind me, I threw myself face down on the bed and groaned into the blanket. I felt like an ass, but I had no choice but to throw Selphie out of the room. It was bad enough that she was being nice to me. Even worse was the way her kindness made me feel. She shouldn't have even cared enough to bother with me, yet she had. And_ I _shouldn't have cared that_ she _cared, but I did. And as I said before, caring about others wasn't something I had a lot of practice doing, but it bothered me to know she thought I was an ass, or a _butt head _as she'd so eloquently put it.

_I am a butt head_, I thought.

I rolled over and stared up at the ceiling and thought about the concern in her eyes when she'd asked about my scars. I couldn't get the gentle touch of her fingertips out of my head _or _off my skin. I could still feel her touch against those old wounds and it was making me nuts. I had very nearly lost control of myself when she'd done that, which was why I had to get her out of my room before I did something stupid, like kiss her. It bothered me to know that thought had even crossed my mind. But then, it _had_ been a long time since a woman had touched me like that.

Then I started to think about what I'd said about the cowboy. I should have just kept my mouth shut. It wasn't like I cared about that anyway, but I hadn't meant to make her cry. Granted, pissing people off used to be something of a hobby of mine, but it always bugged me when I made a girl cry. I'd rather have a girl scream and berate me than start bawling over something asinine I'd said because it always made me feel like a jerk.

I didn't know why any of this mattered anyway. It wasn't like Selphie was my friend or anything. In fact, I couldn't stand her.

Friend or not, I was stuck with her until I received my instructor's license and Cid gave me permission to do my own thing. I didn't know if I could take being around her so much, but if I truly wanted my freedom, I was going to have to figure out some way to get through it without killing her.

And I may have already blown it anyway. For all I knew, she was going to head straight for Cid's office first thing in the morning to tell on me. The unspoken threat of being locked up again, even in Garden's basement was enough to make me change my mind. I_ didn't _want to lose this. I didn't want to screw it up.

Eventually, I drifted off to sleep, and for the first time in three years, I dreamed of something other than Ultimecia.

* * *

**VII**

* * *

_Little Selphie Tilmitt was crouched beside the clothes line behind the orphanage, her hands cupped around something of which she stared at with curiosity and pleasure. Curious, Seifer walked over to check it out. Selphie always found cool stuff, like bugs and worms and firecrackers, and she was never afraid of any of them. Not at all like Quisty, who screamed at all things creepy and crawly._

_"Whatcha got, Seffie?" Seifer asked._

_"A frog."_

_"Lemmie see," he said, excited as he knelt beside her._

_Seifer liked frogs. He liked how they didn't seem to mind being picked up, and he liked that they ate flies because flies were annoying and they puked on you when they landed, which was really gross._

_Selphie opened her hands to let him see her latest find. It was indeed a frog. A sticky, green tree frog._

_"His name is Slimy."_

_"What are you gonna do with it?"_

_"I dunno. Maybe Matron will let me keep him as a pet."_

_Just then, Zell came clamoring out the back door, nosy as always. Seifer wished he'd just mind his own business. Maybe then Seifer wouldn't have to beat him up all the time for being a wuss._

_"What are you guys doing?"_

_"Nuthin'," Selphie said._

_Her hands closed around the frog and she deliberately turned away from Zell, knowing that Zell couldn't resist._

_"Hey! You guys better not have firecrackers again, or I'm gonna tell on yooo!"_

_Selphie glanced at Seifer, a funny little grin on her face, and Seifer knew she was cooking up some kind of scheme. Seffie was his partner in crime, after all. The only one of their gang who has the same mischievous sense of adventure. And like Seifer, Selphie took great pleasure in tormenting Zell._

_Without being told, Seifer grabbed Zell and put him in a headlock to keep him still. Selphie giggled and dropped the tree frog down the front of Zell's shirt._

_Seifer let him go. Zell squealed and began to jump up and down. "_

_Get it off, get it off, getitoffff!"_

_The devious pair laughed at Zell as he danced around trying to dislodge the frog from his stomach, and they elbowed each other in triumph._

_Zell began to cry, which made Selphie and Seifer laugh even harder. They loved to make him cry so they could tease him._

_"Crybaby, Zell," Seifer taunted._

_"Cry, cry, cry," Selphie echoed._

_Zell ran back into the orphanage, bawling his eyes out. On the ground was Slimy, the little green tree frog, hopping away in search of a damp spot to hide in._

_"Hey Seifer," Selphie said, once Slimy was out of sight. "Wanna go blow something up?"_

_In that instant, with those sparkling green eyes smiling up at him, Seifer realized that Little Seffie Tilmitt was his best friend in the whole, wide world._

* * *

A\N:

_**PodSara: **_If you've read the original version of this story, you'll recognize the second half of this chapter as what_ was_ the bulk of chapter two. We debated about whether or not we should tone down the fact that Irvine was something of a man-slut, since that seemed to be one of the major points of contention for some readers (and in MHO, unjust criticism considering only two chapters actually got posted). We decided to change the situation in which the potential cheating occurs, but continue on with the idea. For one thing, it is key to some of the situations that happen later in the story, though not necessarily in the way this chapter might lead you to believe. There's always room for surprises, dear readers. What's different is that we've taken Irvine's perspective. He still cares for Selphie, but knows it's not working. He wants to do the right thing, but is afraid of hurting Selphie.

_**Wench: **_I think I forgot to mention that this story is sort of a two-part piece. The first half will focus on Selphie and Seifer's antics, along with the development of other character scenarios from time to time and the second half I consider more adventure than romance, though there will be plenty of selfery goodness, too.

_**From Both:**_ A great big thanks to everyone who reviewed! Keep e'm commin'! And to all those who didn't, we hope to hear from you soon. That nifty tracker thingy they added tells us you _are_ reading, so why not share your thoughts


	4. Friend or Butthead

**CHAPTER FOUR**  
_**Friend or Butthead**_

* * *

**I**

My wounds healed, but the familiarity of the dream continued to linger days after the fact. I couldn't remember much about that long ago childhood and I'd learned only after the fact that we'd all been at the orphanage. It was Edea who'd reminded me, in one of those rare moments where she was actually there and not possessed by Ultimecia. All but Rinoa had been there, some of us longer than others, but I couldn't recall which of the kids I'd been friendly with, or if I'd ever been friends with any of them at all. I had only vague impressions of things, like the light house, the color of the water and of potential foster parents coming and going and how they'd ever chosen me.

It would have been easy to dismiss it as just a dream if it didn't have the feel of memory to it. Which, if it was something remembered, it brought on a whole other set of issues. It meant, for one, that Selphie Tilmitt had been my original posse, and what a disturbing thought that was!

I was half tempted to ask her if she remembered the orphanage days, but I didn't. For starters, part of me didn't want it to be true, and I didn't want to have to listen to her chatter on for weeks about it if it was. She was also still very pissed at me for throwing her out of my room after she'd helped me, so I kept my mouth shut. I didn't want to give her another reason to deny me my freedom.

Not that she'd spoken to me for days. Her silence was unnerving, after days of non-stop, all the time Garden Festival Radio. It was a welcome break, but it also worried me a little. The fact that she wasn't talking meant that she was very, seriously mad at me.

I'd been an asshole, but I couldn't bring myself to apologize for it. Mostly because I didn't know how. I was never good with apologies, and I justified it by telling myself she'd barged into my room uninvited, and therefore, I'd had the right to forcibly remove her.

But, maybe, me spouting off about Irvine was unnecessary. It took me two days to figure out Irvine was precisely the reason she refused to speak to me. I'd made her question his loyalty, and she didn't want to believe anything bad about him.

In her gut, I was betting, she had to know something wasn't right. She knew he wasn't the perfect boyfriend she imagined him to be, she just couldn't admit it to herself. I could see the break up coming, and I had a feeling it was going to be ugly. I half wanted to bear witness to that particular fight, if only because I wanted to see how Irvine would try to justify it all. I imagined him feeding her some line of convoluted bullshit that not even Selphie would be able to buy and her knocking the crap out of him for being a lying jerk. She'd probably call him a butt head. Of which, he was.

I decided to keep my mouth shut, sit back, and wait for the fireworks, no matter what I saw or heard from then on. It wasn't my business, and I planned to stay out of it.

On the third day of Selphie's silence, I'd stopped by the canteen after my last class and bought a small cactus in a clay pot. I felt stupid, but I didn't know what else to do. After all, I needed her in my corner, whether I liked it or not, and it was the best way I could think of to make it up to her. Besides, the silence was getting unnerving.

I entered the office, lugging my books along with me in a dorky manbag thing that I had no choice but to carry. It was out of necessity more than anything, and I loathed the thing, but the alternative meant carrying an armload of books and folders and leaving me defenseless, should someone decide to jump me. Since the night I was beaten up, it had become a real possibility. I still didn't know who'd attacked me, and they'd gotten away with it. What was stopping them from doing it again?

Selphie looked at me without any kind of expression on her face when I walked in. She didn't smile or start gushing about the bake sale she'd planned for the first week of classes or her latest, greatest plan to make fast cash.

She was still pissed.

That was, until she spied the cactus. Her face broke into a wide grin and she giggled. Hyne, that giggle was annoying. Just hearing it made me wish I hadn't bothered.

"Is that a cactus in your hand or are you just happy to see me?"

Instantly, my face flamed and I scowled at her, completely unable to come up with a biting comeback.

"Sorry, couldn't help it," she said, still grinning like a fool.

Humiliated, I thrust the pot at her and dumped my bag beside my desk without looking at her.

"Is this for me?" she asked slowly and with obvious surprise.

"Whatever," I mumbled.

"That's Squall's line, you know," she teased.

I sent her a withering look.

She stared back at me, her smile gone.

"I'm guessing this is your way of apologizing for being a butthead."

I shrugged and sat down, turning my attention to the latest list of crap she'd assigned me.

"Seifer, that's so sweet," she said, breaking into a huge grin. "Thank you."

"It's just a stupid plant," I said. "Don't get all sentimental."

She didn't say anything else, but I saw her smile to herself as she set the cactus on the windowsill.

* * *

**II**

It was easy to fall back into the daily grind of training, classes and work, then more training and study in the evenings. I'd never been a stickler for structure, but it was easy and comfortable, and having my Posse around made it bearable. I was getting stronger, and soon, I'd be ready to fight Squall again and actually stand a chance of beating him. I was looking forward to that more than anything. Not because I owed him a proper beating but because I needed the challenge and I got the feeling he did too.

Okay. Maybe my ego demanded I beat the devil out of him at least once in the near future, but that was besides the point. I had my feet rooted firmly in reality, and the reality of it was, he was better than me. A challenge was all I could ask for, but kicking the crap out of him would have been more than a little satisfying.

My classes were going okay, though no one but the instructors talked to me, and I'd selected photography as my elective, since everything else that sounded remotely enjoyable was full. The other options were things like _Cooking 101_ and _The Poetry of Sorceress Adel_. I'd wanted to take the Film Studies course, but it had a six month waiting list, which didn't help me any.

Photography, though not my first choice, wasn't so bad. I liked looking at some of the old photos from before the advent of digital, and I found myself getting a little lost looking at black and whites taken in the Trabian mountains. We studied photography as an art form, using actual film, and were learning different techniques and how to develop that film. After a while, I even found myself enjoying myself. I actually liked taking photos, and it seemed I wasn't half bad at it, though I'd never admit it out loud.

Of course, when Selphie found out I was taking photography, she immediately put me in charge of the Yearbook.

"We don't have a yearbook," I said.

"We do now!" she said happily. "It's a really great idea, Seifer. I'm so glad you're taking photography. It'll really help out."

"It's a _class_," I said. "It's not like I'm going to make it a hobby."

She picked up my portfolio, which I was required to keep, and flipped through some of the studies I'd done. She stopped on a photo I'd taken of a sunset over the mountains in Balamb and looked at it critically. Then she flipped to a black and white portrait I'd taken of a girl in my class.

"Maybe you _should_ make it a hobby," she said seriously. "You have an eye for it."

"It's just a class."

She put the portfolio down and perched on the edge of her desk, and started to swing her feet back and forth. One of many annoying habits she had that I hadn't known about until it was too late.

"That doesn't mean you can't enjoy it."

The truth was, I did enjoy it, but I wasn't willing to admit it. At least, not to her. Especially now that she'd dumped another responsibility on me. One that would make me hate taking photographs as much as I hated working with her.

"What do you want out of life, Seifer," she asked. "I mean, I know being an instructor was Cid and Rinoa's idea and you're only doing this to earn your freedom, but if you had the chance to do anything in the world, what would you do?"

Her question startled me a little. It wasn't like her to ask serious questions, and to tell the truth, I didn't know how to answer it. It wasn't something I'd thought about since before the whole Ultimecia mess started. And back then, my priorities were clouded by my own delusions of greatness. I had dreams, and some of them had come true, but at a great price.

I hadn't looked _forward_ since getting out of prison, and I was a little apprehensive about doing so now, if only because I wasn't certain how this would play out. There was still a chance that I'd spend the rest of my life in the Brig, so until I knew for certain that it wouldn't happen, I wouldn't let myself think about the future too much.

And now that I was faced with this question, I didn't have an answer for her.

What _did_ I want most?

"There must be something," she said.

"I don't know," I said. "I guess, maybe I'd want to take it all back."

"You mean your part in the Sorceress thing?" Selphie asked.

"Yeah," I said.

"That's not really something you can take back, Seifer," she pointed out.

She said it gently, but it still kind of stung. Mostly because she was right.

"Can we talk about something else?" I grumbled.

She hopped down from the desk and handed me a stack of pamphlets from various companies that printed yearbooks.

"Look through these, decide on one. I've already got a couple of people interested in working on it."

"I never agreed to this," I said.

"Come on," she said. "You want a way to make it up to people, then show them you're not such a bad guy."

How would working on a yearbook show people I wasn't a bad guy? Did she have any clue what it was like to be me?

Then I realized, she probably didn't. Selphie couldn't understand that not everyone gave others the benefit of a doubt like she did, nor could she understand that not everyone was as forgiving as she was. She sincerely thought that pushing me into working on the yearbook, I'd be instantly forgiven, and as much as I would have liked that to be true, I wasn't that naive.

She had my hands tied, though. I felt as if I had no choice because of the position I was in. Grudgingly, I snatched the pamphlets from her and dropped them on my desk. I didn't like being forced into doing something I didn't want to do. It was bad enough I had to work with her to get the student center running. Now I was being bullied into getting more involved than I wanted to be, which sucked.

I reminded myself that I had to do this if I ever wanted to live on my own terms again. What was a few months of discomfort if it meant I'd eventually earn my freedom? Besides, I'd be free of all this nonsense once I'd passed my exams. It was a small price to pay in the long run, even if it made me slightly insane now. Still, there was just one problem with her plan, besides the fact that I was going to bail once I was free.

"When exactly am I supposed to find time do this?" I asked. "I've got classes, training, all these stupid fund raisers you want my help with, plus everything else you have me doing. Now you want me to sacrifice what little time I have to myself for this? No way."

Selphie rolled her eyes.

"It's only two hours a week, Seifer. It's not like I'm asking you to sell your soul."

Actually, I was starting to think maybe she was.

* * *

**III**

For almost a week, Squall had been watching Seifer train in the evenings from a hidden observation deck above the main floor of the Training Center. There was no doubt Seifer was getting better, and no question that he was taking this very seriously. The Seifer of old would only have trained when he _had_ to, being that he thought he was good enough that he didn't have to train. This was a more determined, less cocky version of the boy he'd known, and for that, Squall was thankful.

Squall believed now, more than ever, that Seifer Almasy would turn out to be more of an asset than a liability, as long as they could keep him on the right path, and he was glad they'd chosen Selphie to guide him. Squall just hoped that Selphie would be able to provide the right balance of encouragement and outright badgering to get him there.

It was no mistake that Cid had gotten Selphie as involved as she was. Cid knew what he was doing.

Selphie hadn't been the obvious choice in Squall's opinion, but he had to admit, she was good at giving people the benefit of the doubt, no matter what they had done. Plus, she had a tendency to make things work to her advantage, even when there was no plan and little to nothing to work with. Sure, she could be really annoying, but she was also sweet and charming and there was very little that could knock her down for long. Squall knew that there was nothing Seifer could do or say that would break Selphie's will, and that meant that she'd never give up on him, so long as he was entangled in her world and her plans. With Selphie invested in Seifer's success, there was little doubt that he would prosper in the end.

At least, Squall hoped.

Squall had extended an invitation to Seifer to train with him in the mornings, but he knew that Seifer would steer clear of him until he was ready. From the look of things, it might not be long before they faced one another again, and Squall found himself looking forward to that day. It had been a long time since he'd fought an equal that wasn't computer generated.

Below, Seifer felled a T-rexaur and Squall smiled a little. He remembered the first time he'd been able to do it alone, and it had been a major accomplishment. No doubt, Seifer was feeling the same kind of self-satisfaction now.

As Squall watched, he realized that his desire to keep tabs on Seifer had only a little to do with monitoring Seifer's progress, and it wasn't just that he was looking for a worthy opponent. It was that, deep down, Squall knew that Seifer was, at heart a decent guy. In spite of everything that had happened, Squall wanted to trust him. Something in Squall told him that Seifer would not walk the wrong road again. Instinct also told him, after the initial shock wore off, Seifer Almasy would wind up being one of the more popular instructors. For one, Seifer knew what he was doing, and for two, he wasn't going to take any bullshit off any of his students, yet Squall was certain the kids would find something in Seifer they could relate to, in spite of what he'd done.

Under the right circumstances, Squall also understood that there was potential for friendship between himself and his former rival, now that Seifer had let go of some of his bravado. It wouldn't have been possible a few years back, but now things were different. For one thing, Squall had seen the look of respect on Seifer's face when they'd fought in the Training Center. The old Seifer would have thrown a tantrum and claimed that Squall had somehow cheated. The grown up Seifer accepted his defeat without childish theatrics or aggressive rage.

Maybe, with Squall on his side, maybe the rest would realize that Seifer did have some good qualities. If Squall could ease people's fears about having Seifer Almasy back at Garden, then things would be better for everyone, but most especially Seifer.

Squall's thoughts drifted away from Seifer's plight, to the message he'd gotten earlier from one of his under cover operatives.

While the world seemed at relative peace, there were some matters of concern that Squall had been watching for several months. His biggest worries had to do with Commander Jorjan Deling, a man whom the whole world was celebrating as a strong, capable leader who was bent on restoring peace and making up for his father's shortcomings.

Squall wasn't convinced that Deling Jr. was all he appeared to be. He'd been wary since the beginning, when Deling had been appointed the command post shortly after their return from Time Compression. President Carraway had assured Squall that Deling was nothing like his father. Carraway believed that Deling was honest, patriotic and democratic and had absolutely no designs on the Presidency. Deling apparently had an impeccable record and superior leadership skills, and no signs of megolomaniacal tendencies.

On the surface, it looked legit. Still, Squall wasn't convinced that Deling was no threat. Especially now that he'd received communication from his spy in the G-army ranks.

It seemed Deling was sending out regular patrols into the Salt Flats near the Great Salt Lake, just outside Esthar. Word was that they were looking for weak spots in Esthar's border veils. The thing was, if Deling was interested in getting into Esthar, there were other ways. Easier ways than breaking in. Squall found it more than just a little suspicious. Whatever was going on, he was fairly certain that it would spell conflict in the future.

If it did all go to hell, Seifer Almasy would be a valuable asset, and Squall could certainly use a couple of strong leaders in his corner. He hoped he could count Seifer among them.

Squall decided, as he stood there watching, that it was time to put the past behind him, for once and for all.

* * *

**IV**

As I left the training center, Squall stopped me. I wasn't sure what he wanted because I couldn't read the look on his face, but I had a feeling it had nothing to do with Garden or my classes or my growing agitation with Selphie. It was too late in the day for all that, and he didn't have that tense _I have bad news_ look about him. He could be a tough read, but he had his tells, and from what I could see, this was an unofficial visit.

"What's up?" I asked.

"Feel like grabbing a beer?"

Never in a million years would I have ever expected an invitation like that from Squall Leonhart. Having a few beers after a hard day was a privilege reserved for friends, and as far as I knew, we weren't. But, maybe, it didn't have to be that way. After all, it couldn't hurt to have a friendly relationship with the Commander, especially if things went to hell with Selphie.

"Hell yeah," I said.

I hadn't had a beer in over three years and a cold one sounded like the answer to my prayers. I'd just have to be careful to remember that it might only take a couple to get me rip-roaring shitfaced, and I would have to pace myself. The last thing I wanted to do was get hammered while I was still on probation.

"You'll want to change," Squall said.

"Where are we going?"

"SeeD lounge."

Squall waited while I cleaned up, and I wondered again what this was about. Did he just want to hang out or was there something else. I wasn't sure and I couldn't help but be a little concerned that maybe things weren't working out with me being here, even if I didn't get that vibe from him.

I'd never been to the SeeD lounge, but I'd heard a lot about it. For one thing, it was only available to off duty SeeDs and approved guests. Access could only be gained with a SeeD badge or if your name was on the guest list. I was a SeeD now, but I wasn't so sure they'd let me in, even with badge in hand, since my future was kind of still undecided.

"He's with me," Squall told the door guy.

We were ushered in without another word and Squall took a seat at the bar. The barkeep walked past two girls, who were frantically waving Gil at him, to greet Squall, who was obviously higher priority.

"What can I get you tonight, Commander?"

"Two beers and two shots of Mimmet."

"Of course, sir."

I found it a little amusing that it seemed everyone was so overeager to please Commander Leonhart. And, in all honesty, it was strange to hear them call him Commander. I was still having some trouble reconciling the Squall I'd known and this older, more confident version. Back when we were kids, he'd been pretty much overlooked, except when it came to fighting. Otherwise, no one really expected much from him. Now things had done a complete 180, and not only was he known but looked up to and respected, and it wasn't just the title that had made the difference. They had a reason to respect him, just as they had a reason to hate me.

The drinks came almost immediately and I watched as Squall lifted the shot glass.

"To letting by-gones be," he said.

The hits just kept coming.

He wanted to make peace with me. As if he'd needed to. More than anything, I wanted to leave it all behind and not have to think about it hourly. It meant a lot to me to know that he'd forgiven me. It meant a lot to know he wanted to leave our old animosity behind.

I echoed his toast, knowing that he meant me, but I meant all of it. The whole ugly affair, but I knew no matter how many toasts there were or how many months went by or how much freedom I was given, my burden would weigh heavy on me for the rest of my life.

But Squall meant well. He was trying to bury the hatchet, to use the cliché.

"Hear you're doing well in your classes so far."

"It's only the third week," I said. "Still have plenty of time to fuck it up."

Squall chuckled and shook his head.

"You'd better not. I can't vouch for you if you don't pass," Squall said. "Galbadia wants you back in their custody, you know. Don't give the board a reason to reverse their decision."

"Hell, Leonhart, that was a joke," I said, laughing at his serious expression. "I want my freedom, no matter how _annoying _or fucking _painful_ it might be to get there."

"Selphie?"

"Yeah."

"She just told me things are 'hunky-dory' with you two."

"Oh yeah. We're two peas in a pod," I said

"She's a lot to take," Squall said, almost sympathetically. "But trust me when I say there's no one else I'd rather have on my side than Selphie."

I stared at him as if he'd completely lost it. Of all people, he'd rather have _Selphie_ in his corner? What about Rinoa, or the others? Didn't they count or was I missing the point?

"Right."

"You'll see what I mean eventually. Once you get past all those glittered stickers, moogle dolls and fuzzy yellow things, Selphie's a good person and if she considers you her friend, she's the best friend you'll ever have."

I thought that over and took my first sip of beer in over three years. Squall had good taste. This was not the cheap contraband brew of my youth but a good quality Trabian import served in a glass with no hint of an aluminum can anywhere in sight. Had I known as a boy that this was one of the perks of being a SeeD, I would have told Ultimecia to go fuck herself.

"Something I wanted to ask you," Squall finally said, after a long silence. "Off the record of course."

Here it comes, I thought.

"You met Jorjan Deling while you were in prison. They tell me he propositioned you."

"Yeah. Maybe a year ago. Turned him down."

"Obviously," Squall said. "What was your opinion of him?"

Squall Leonhart, Garden Commander, was asking _me_ my opinion? Had hell frozen over?

"I didn't like him. Seemed too slick. Like, a blue Dragon masquerading as a school boy," I said. "It was like he was pretending to be a nice guy, but I just got this feeling that, I don't know, he was up to something. He talks peace, you know? But I could see in his eyes that peace was the last thing he wanted when he came to me."

Squall absorbed that in silence and then signaled the bartender to bring us another round. I knew I should have refused, but I couldn't help myself. The beer was cold and quality. The Mimmet was probably the finest I'd ever tasted. And the truth was, I found myself enjoying Squall's company, even if we were discussing some potentially heavy subject matter. So, I accepted another round. It was Friday, after all. I didn't have to meet Selphie until ten the next morning, so I could skip my training and sleep in if I was hung over.

We didn't toast this time, just raised our glasses and drank. We discussed Deling a little more, not that there was much to say. I'd only met him once, and whatever Squall knew was classified, but I got the distinct impression that this wouldn't be the last I heard of the man. I just hoped whatever was going on would come to a more peaceful resolution than the one I imagined.

* * *

**V**

Selphie hadn't shut up about her plans for the Garden festival since Irvine had walked in the door of her apartment. Every time he changed the subject, hoping she'd get the point, she brought it back around to the plans for yearbook, or the bake sale, of which she'd tried to recruit him for, or her latest grievance with Seifer. It was too much to take on a Friday night, when he could be out playing pool and drinking beer or hanging out with Stosha. It used to be that on a Friday night, he and Selphie would go to the SeeD lounge, drink beer and play pool. It had been a really, really long time since they'd done anything besides talk about the Student Activities Center.

He missed the days when Selphie had been fun to be around. Now she was just frustrating. He loved her, but he hated being around her for too long because she made him feel guilty. He knew that this was his own fault, but it didn't help that she didn't even seem to notice.

"Hey, Seph, I've gotta go," he said when there was a lapse in Selphie's monologue.

"But you just got here," she whined. "I've hardly seen you all week."

"I know, but I've got a big munitions delivery in the morning, and Squall wants it processed as soon as it comes in."

Selphie pulled a face on him, looking crushed.

Hyne, he hoped she wasn't going to cry. He already hated himself for not being able to end this. Crying would just make it worse.

"Will you at least be able to help with the bake sale tomorrow? You promised you'd make some of those turtle brownies you made for my birthday last year."

Feeling like a giant asshole, Irvine reached out and pulled her into his arms.

"I've got to work, Sef. Just like you do."

Selphie sniffled and he felt her sigh against his chest.

"I know, it just sucks that we never get to spend any time together. I mean, I've hardly seen you lately."

Irvine held her close, thinking that maybe now was the time to end it. There was no sense in leading her on like this.

"Seffie, I think-"

"Oh, I just had a great idea!" she cried, pulling away. "I'm free next weekend and so are you. Why don't we rent one of those cottages at Balamb Beach? Spend the weekend alone with no distractions or anything? What do you say? Sound like a plan?"

Irvine shrugged. Maybe a weekend alone together would be just the thing to rekindle their relationship. Or, it could be a kind of hell, what with all the chatter about her projects and Seifer's classes.

"If I can get the weekend off, we'll go," Irvine agreed. "Just one rule."

Selphie looked amused and cocked her head at him. Hyne, he loved it when she did that. It was so damned cute that it was hard to resist her.

"No talk about work, or Garden or anything else that has to do with this place. I want it to be all about us. Nothing else."

"Oh, Irvy, that's so romantic," Selphie cooed and threw her arms around him again. "That sounds like a great idea."

Irvine gave her a kiss and held her tight. Just a moment ago, he was about to break up with her and now he couldn't imagine his life without Selphie being in it. No matter what girls came into his life, Selphie was the only one that mattered. She was the only one he kept coming back to, and there had to be something to that. Maybe it was the way she looked at him, or the way she kept surprising him. Just when he thought he was losing her, she did something like this that made him feel like a million gil. Maybe this could work out after all, maybe he was being selfish, maybe it was just that he truly, sincerely missed being around her.

As he left Selphie's apartment, Irvine vowed to break things off with Stosha, but as he passed the hallway that lead to Stosha's room, he changed his mind.

He'd break it off tomorrow.

* * *

A/N:

Wench: I know there's not a lot happening in this chapter, but it sets up some things that pay off later. This was a longer chapter, with some bake sale madness at the end, but we decided to cut it off here because it was a good stopping point. It's sort of a transition into what comes next. And no worries. There's plenty of good stuff to come.

PodSara: The passage at the end of this is a new addition to the finished story. We added it because Irvine wasn't getting enough air time and we needed to show that he loves Selphie, but he's also totally unable to make a decision when it comes to women. In spite of what Wench said about this being a transistion chapter, I really like what we've done. Seifer apologizing via cactus is just classic. Selphie badgering Seifer into working on the yearbook is amusing And the boys bonding over booze....well, that was just inevitable. And, as Wench said, the best is yet to come. Stay tuned, keep reading and give us some reviews!

* * *


	5. Baked Madness

**CHAPTER FIVE**  
_**Baked Madness**_

* * *

**I**

* * *

Selphie got up around six the next morning, excited about the day to come. The first of her money-making plans was about to happen, and she couldn't wait to get started. She went to her small kitchen and began to load baking supplies onto a cart she'd borrowed from the cafeteria, humming to herself as she worked. She was so glad she had Seifer around to help her. They could get so much done, and so far he'd been pretty cooperative.

She just wished he wasn't so down all the time. There was a lot of pressure on him, for sure, but he seemed so depressed, she wished there was some way she could cheer him up. Maybe when he saw how much money they made at tomorrow's bake sale, he'd cheer up and truly get on board. Hyne knew, they could have a lot of fun with this, if only he'd let himself enjoy it.

Her only regret about today's activities was that Irvine wasn't able to help. He was a fantastic cook when he wanted to be, and she knew he'd really enjoy helping, but he was busy. It felt like they hadn't seen one another in ages, and she knew he would have had a great time. At least she had the following weekend to look forward to. A nice, relaxing mini-vacation, away from their troubles or obligations. It would be just the thing they needed.

No matter, though. She had help. She'd recruited Raijin and Fujin and a couple of kids she'd caught smoking out in the quad to make cookies and cupcakes. Seifer would handle the brownies and Selphie would make her foster mother's famous Lemon Bars and her home made vanilla bean butter cream icing for the cupcakes.

She put on a pot of coffee and double checked that she'd put the ten pound bag of sugar on her cart. She was excited, but didn't want to forget anything. There was much to do and she didn't want to waste time having to run to the canteen or the cafeteria for more supplies. It would be a shame to run out of eggs right in the middle of things.

A half an hour later, there was a knock on her door.

Right on time, she thought.

She opened it and greeted Raijin with a grin and a hug, of which he returned enthusiastically, and she gave Fujin a little wave and a smile, since it seemed Fujin didn't much enjoy hugs or even hand shakes. Selphie was so glad she'd gotten to know them. Fujin was still a little scary, but Raijin was one great big cardiac muscle and absolutely adorable. He reminded her of a big fuzzy teddy bear, and Selphie could never resist teddy bears.

"Great to see ya, ya know?" Raijin bellowed.

"You too," Selphie said sincerely. "Hi Fuj. I've got coffee if you want some. Help yourself."

Fujin stared at her for a second. That stare always unnerved Selphie, though she hid it well. Then the taciturn woman went to the cabinet, retrieved Selphie's favorite mug, which was big enough to hold a half a pot of coffee, and filled it to the brim. Selphie almost said something, but she kept her mouth shut. Fujin was her guest, after all, and she'd been invited.

"So where's Seifer," Raijin asked. "I thought he was supposed to be helping, ya know?"

"I don't know," Selphie said. "I guess I should go get him. He's probably still training or something."

"LAZY," Fujin remarked.

"Fujin was just sayin' that Seifer's kind of slow in the morning, ya know? He doesn't like getting up early if he doesn't have to," Raijin explained, as if he needed to. "Plus, he was out late. Had a few too many with Squall, ya know?"

"He did?" Selphie asked, surprised.

"FRIENDS."

Well, that was unexpected. She never imagined that Seifer and Squall would have become friendly this soon. She'd figured it would take a while, but she supposed it was a good thing. The more people on Seifer's side, the better. He needed all the friends he could get. Even if he could be a total jerk sometimes, it wasn't totally his fault that everyone was afraid of him.

"Well, I'll just run over to his room and remind him that we need his help today," Selphie said, cheerily. "You guys go ahead and get started."

Selphie pounded on Seifer's door and called out, hoping he was in there and not off on some other exploit today. She'd hate to think he'd forgotten.

When there was no answer, she tried the knob. It was unlocked, but she hesitated before going in. The last time she'd barged into his room uninvited, it had ended badly, but she worried that maybe someone had broken in again and he was lying there hurt and alone. If that was the case, she'd feel horrible about not checking. But then again, she hadn't really cared for being verbally, nor physically abused for trying to help, either.

She opened the door anyway and stepped inside, calling out his name so that he wasn't startled. His T-shirt was wadded up in the middle of the table. She saw his boots lying in the middle of the kitchen floor, along with his pants and belt, which struck Selphie as a weird place to undress, but there was no sign of Seifer Almasy.  
He wasn't passed out on the couch or in the bathroom either, and his gunblade was propped up next to the TV, so she was certain he wasn't at the training center.

A sudden and horrible image gripped her, of Seifer badly wounded, or worse-_dead_, in the bedroom. In fear, she flung open the door, only to find him sprawled out, face-up on the bed, sound asleep and uninjured. Relief and annoyance washed through her as she stepped into the room. She was glad he was okay, but a little irritated that he'd overslept.

"Seifer? Wake up."

He didn't move.

"Seifer!" she said, louder this time.

He still didn't move.

Selphie went to the edge of the bed and stared down at him, wanting to be angry, but found she couldn't be. He looked so young and so cute when he was asleep. Hard to believe this was the same guy that had almost destroyed the world. It made her want to protect and take care of him, even if he was a big brute with no manners and a bad attitude. That didn't mean that he couldn't change. Selphie saw potential in him, and lots of it, and she was willing to bet, under the surface was an amazing guy she'd eventually be glad to know. The trick was, getting him there.

It wasn't like anyone had ever really cared about him before, besides Rinoa, and that made her sad. How awful to grow up knowing that no one wanted you. That was the very reason Squall kept to himself. It was the reason that Quistis was so stiff and so afraid to get involved. Maybe it had done the same to Seifer, he just showed it in a different way. Maybe he was just afraid to let anyone too close, so he acted like a pompous jerk to keep people at a distance.

Even in sleep, Seifer looked troubled. Very gently, Selphie reached out and caressed his cheek, surprised to find it smooth under her hand. He had such a handsome face, it was easy to see how Rinoa had fallen for him. She wondered, had Seifer been kind to Rinoa? Had she seen a side of him that no one else had? There had to be something more to him, besides the attitude and the cute face and nice body. There had to be some tenderness in him, otherwise, Selphie doubted Rinoa would have been so upset when they all thought he was dead.

Maybe he just needed a little love. Love had done wonders for Squall, so why not Seifer?

The problem was, everyone was afraid of him. It wasn't like she could set him up with some sweet girl and things would be fine. And she didn't know any available women except Quistis, and there was no way that would work. Quistis wasn't his biggest fan to begin with, and he thought she was a bossy, stuck up bitch. Put them within a hundred feet of one another and it was likely to get very, very ugly.

Fujin, maybe?

Selphie almost laughed out lout trying to picture that pairing. No way. Fujin would rather die. Seifer would laugh so hard his spleen would rupture if she even suggested it.

There just had to be someone perfect for him, though. Someone who could overlook his past mistakes and see the cool, sweet, funny guy that Selphie knew he was. But who fit the bill?

Selphie decided it might be best to think on it for a while before she made up her mind.

When Seifer still didn't wake up, Selphie sat down on the edge of the bed, next to him and brushed a lock of hair off his forehead. She liked his hair this way. Not quite clean cut, but not unkempt either. It was longer than he used to wear it, though, and it suited him.

"Wake up, sleepyhead," she said. "We've got work to do."

Seifer's eyes popped wide open and he seized her wrist. In an instant, he had Selphie flipped over onto her back and he pressed a dagger to her throat and her wrists pinned above her head. Selphie held her breath and tried not to scream. She could feel the edge of the blade digging into the flesh of her neck and her wrists begin to bruise.

This was a different Seifer than the one Selphie had gotten to know over the last three weeks. There was something savage and dangerous in his eyes, and it told her that he had no qualms about killing her right then and there. This was the face of a man who'd lost some of his humanity, and Selphie was terrified that he might actually kill her. She lay there beneath him paralyzed by fear and totally unsure of what to do. If she moved, he might take that to mean she was resisting, and it would be such an easy thing to draw the blade across her neck and end her life.

"Don't kill me," she whispered.

At that, Seifer came back to himself and stared down at her, confused, as if he was just realizing who she was. He dropped the blade but didn't release his grip on her wrists.

Selphie let out a breath, relieved.

"What are you doing in my room?" he demanded.

"I came to remind you about the bake sale," Selphie said in a small voice.

"I thought that was tomorrow."

"It is, but we have to bake today," she said. "Remember? We talked about this."

"When?"

"All week," she said. "You're hurting me. Could you, maybe, let me go?"

From the look on his face, Selphie could tell he was just realizing what he was doing, and that she was still pinned beneath him. Something in his eyes changed, from anger to something else. Something that made Selphie's heart start to pound.

He let go of her wrists and cradled her face between his hands, his eyes searching her face. He had that same soft look that Irvine got right before he was about to kiss her. Selphie was half horrified by the thought, but also intrigued.

All she knew was that she'd kill him if he kissed her.

And she would kill him if he didn't.

* * *

**II**

* * *

I woke with the feeling that someone was watching me, but I kept my eyes closed, listening for any indication of an intruder. I heard nothing. At first.

Then:

"Wake up, sleepyhead."

Something touched my face and instinct took over. I sprung on my would be attacker, pinning them to the bed.

Since the night I'd been jumped in my own room, I'd taken to sleeping with a dagger under my pillow, in case I needed to defend myself, and I had no problem using it on whomever had come into my room without being invited. I had no problem taking someone out if they meant me harm, even if it meant I'd have to go back to prison. I refused to be bullied, or used as a punching bag just because someone couldn't let go of a grudge.

I almost didn't hold back. I almost went ahead and slit my attacker's throat out of sheer rage rather than rational thought. I was pissed that someone had the nerve to break into my room, possibly with the intention of harming me.

Imagine my confusion when I discovered it was Selphie beneath me. Not some would be assassin, but Selphie and I'd almost killed her. I could tell by the look on her face that she knew it.

She lay beneath me, trying her best to remain still, as if the slightest movement might provoke me, and she stared up at me with wide, frightened eyes. Thank Hyne I hadn't lost all control. All the times I thought about how nice it would be to kill her, well, that was just a joke. It wasn't as if I'd actually planned on doing it, and now that I'd come so close, it wasn't very funny at all.

I still didn't understand what she was doing in my room, but I became very aware of her body beneath mine. I could feel the steady thump of her heartbeat against my chest. I could smell her perfume and feel the smoothness of her bare legs against mine. Long buried lust washed through me, as if my brain had no connection with the rest of my body. My body wanted what mind rejected, and it seemed the body was about to win.

I had the most overpowering urge to kiss her, and I wondered, how could a girl who made me so absolutely _nuts_ turn me on this much? Was it just that I'd been deprived for so long or was there more to it that that?

With her face cupped between my hands, I looked down at her, unsure of what to do next. When she was quiet like this, she wasn't so bad, and she certainly wasn't hard on the eyes, either. I might have even been interested if she could keep her trap shut for two seconds, which she was _somehow_ managing to do, for a change, and it wasn't helping my case any.

And I wondered, if I _were_ to kiss her, would she scream? Tell the cowboy what I did?

I wasn't sure if I wanted to find out, but I didn't exactly want to let her go, either. I kind of liked the way she was looking at me, unafraid and unconcerned about the position she was in. It had been a long time since a girl had looked at me like that, without fear or anger in her eyes, and I missed it.

Slowly, I angled my face towards hers until our lips were not quite touching. Maybe it was a test, maybe it wasn't, but her mouth came up to meet mine without hesitation, as if she'd been expecting it, as if she'd _wanted_ it, and I knew, right then, that Selphie and the cowboy were doomed. No matter what she said, or how much she claimed to love him, they were doomed.

I didn't know what it was I thought I was doing. I didn't even _like_ Selphie. I could hardly blame Irvine for screwing around on her. I could barely stand to be around her in small doses, and I could only imagine what three _years_ with her might do to a man. Cheating could only be considered small potatoes compared to the hell she must have put him through. It was a wonder he hadn't snapped already.

Kissing her like this was just asking for trouble. As much as I wanted to see how far this could go, and as much as I wanted and needed to get laid, I had to put an end to it, or else things were going to get very, very complicated. It was with great reluctance that I pulled back and looked down at her.

"Selphie," I murmured.

"Hmmm?"

"Get the hell out of my room."

* * *

**III**

* * *

It had taken me a while to get out of bed, once I'd rid Selphie of it. I was slightly hung over and was not looking forward to burning baked goods, which I was sure to do. I'd never cooked anything in my life. I could barely manage to nuke a bowl of soup, let alone bake something people would actually want to eat.

I showered and reported for duty a half an hour later, and that made me officially an hour late in Selphie's book. Not that I cared. I couldn't, for the life of me, remember having any conversation with her about me having to bake. I couldn't remember agreeing to sacrifice my one day a week of freedom for her stupid plans. I had mid terms to study for, a photography project due, of which I still didn't have a subject for, and I still had to log two hours at the firing range before Monday, so it wasn't like I was going to be able to fit all that in if I had to help in the kitchen, too.

All I remembered was that I was supposed to sell some baked goods, not actually bake them. Who in their right minds would purchase something that I had prepared? I had a feeling they'd steer clear of the table, just because I happened to be sitting at it.

I found Raijin and Fujin, my traitorous ex-best friends, in Selphie's room, measuring and mixing things in bowls, along with two sleepy eyed but silent underclassmen quietly doing the same. The instant the underclassmen saw me, their eyes went wide and I had a feeling one of them was fighting the urge to bolt. Not that I blamed him. After all, it was a pretty intimidating scene. The Head of Security, her Deputy, a mass murderer, and an over-caffinated dwarf who, quite frankly, looked as if she was ready to murder me, all crammed into the same room. It was a recipe for disaster, and those kids looked like they knew it.

"Seifer!" Raijin cried. "Good to see ya, ya know?"

I couldn't help but shake my head and sigh at the sight of him. He was wearing a bright yellow apron that was at least two sizes too small for him, happily mixing something fluffy in a yellow bowl, looking very unlike the guy I'd considered my best friend since I was ten. Even the spoon he held was yellow.

I looked around. Actually, everything in Selphie's room was one shade of yellow or another. It almost made me nauseous.

"It looks like the fucking sun threw up in here," I grumbled.

"Yeah, it's cheery, ya know?" Raijin agreed.

To me, it was about as cheery as a shotgun blast to the head.

"I see you finally decided to join us," Fujin said, dropping her customary bark. "Slacker."

I was taken aback by that. It was a _very_ rare thing to hear Fujin speak like a normal person, especially around outsiders. I could only recall two instances in which she'd done so. Once was just before Ultimecia achieved time compression, and the other was back when we were still cadets and she'd been forced to give a speech in front of the class. I remember how much it had freaked everyone out to know that Fujin could speak in full sentences, after all those years of thinking she had some kind of speech impediment.

But there she was, dropping the act in front of, not only Selphie, but two underclassmen as well.

I felt like I didn't know my friends anymore.

What the _hell_ had Selphie done to them?

"I see you two drank the kool-aid," I said, bitter. "You gonna start a moogle doll collection, too?"

They both looked at me as if I'd just peed on Selphie's floor. I seriously didn't know what they were thinking, but I sure didn't like it. Selphie was making them soft, and maybe just as crazy as she was.

Yeah. I was a little bitter and a lot jealous. I wanted things to be like they used to be, when they did whatever I told them to. Now it seemed like they did whatever Selphie wanted, and that really pissed me off.

"So, you're making brownies," Selphie informed me.

Her voice was frigid, and I knew she was furious with me for what had happened earlier. The question was, what _exactly_ was she mad about? The fact that she'd broken into my room and I'd almost killed her? Or was it that I'd made her question her loyalty to her boyfriend and then thrown her out? She was the one that came into my room uninvited, touched me with what, in hindsight, seemed like affection, and then kissed me. Had she been a good girl and left me alone, none of it would have happened. In my mind, she had no right to be angry with me. If anyone should have been pissed, it was _me_.

"I don't know how to make brownies," I said.

She rolled her eyes at me and thrust a box into my hands.

"Just follow the directions," she said.

I wanted to laugh. Did she know who she was talking to?

* * *

**IV**

* * *

Selphie was almost finished icing Raijin's cupcakes when Seifer removed a massive pan of brownies from the oven without checking if they were done or not. She set aside her spatula and stared down at the pan. The edges were perfect, but the center still looked soupy. She seized a knife and stuck it in the middle, to test if it truly was done or not. The knife came away gooey and she shook her head at Seifer.

"They're not done," she said. "Another ten minutes."

"The box says fifteen," Seifer countered. "It's been seventeen. I timed it."

"Not all ovens were created equal, Seifer."

Hyne, how in the world did Seifer keep from burning the place down? He couldn't really be this helpless in the kitchen, could he? Apparently, he barely knew how to use the oven. He'd lived on microwaved meals, things that came in snack packs and cafeteria food, and Selphie thought that was sad. Sad in a pathetic kind of way. She didn't feel bad for him in the least. Not after what he'd done this morning.

"You said to follow the directions on the box and that's what I did."

"Yes, and you did it very well," Selphie said as if she were talking to a child. "But I promise you, they're not done yet."

Seifer heaved a sigh and thrust the pan back into the oven.

"If you'd told me I'd have to help with this, I would have told you I couldn't cook."

"I did tell you, like, a thousand times!" Selphie cried, frustrated.

Selphie couldn't believe he hadn't heard a word she'd said. After _days_ of reminding him and talking about it, Selphie was now finding out that Seifer had tuned it all out! Of all the things he'd done today, Selphie was pretty sure this was the worst.

Well, maybe not as bad a s putting a _knife_ to her throat, but still. He knew this was important, for Hyne's sake!

"So where's your wonderful, devoted boyfriend in all of this?" Seifer asked. "I'm surprised you didn't force him to be here, too."

"She didn't force me, ya know?" Raijin interjected. "I'm here 'cause I wanna be."

"Shut up," Seifer fired back without looking at him. "So, Selphie, where is he? Did he have to _work_?"

"Yes, he had to _work_," Selphie said, furious. "Not that it's _any _of your business."

"Well, that's a good thing," Seifer said, "because it would be pretty uncomfortable in here, after what happened this morning, hunh?"

Selphie's face turned bright red and she stormed over to him, ready to knock him out if she had to. She didn't know what had possessed her this morning, but now she regretted it in a big way. If it ever got back to Irvine, Selphie would die.

"I was afraid for my life!"

"Yeah, you looked pretty afraid," Seifer chuckled. "Need I remind you, _you're_ the one that kissed _me_."

"What?!" Selphie cried. "_I_ kissed _you_? I don't _think_ so! I couldn't even move, you big dummy!"

Selphie couldn't believe this was happening. She was humiliated. She was furious. She wanted to break something. Preferably a few of Seifer's bones.

"Liar," he said. "You're just afraid Irvine will find out."

_"I HATE YOU!" _

"I hate you more," Seifer said, and it sounded as if he meant it.

Fuming, Selphie picked up one of the freshly iced cup cakes, looked at it for a second, and then mashed it into Seifer's face. Then, she made sure she ground it in a little, just to make sure his ugly face was fully coated.

To think, she'd _kissed_ him! That she might have thought for a second that he was good looking!

The room went eerily silent for a few seconds, and then Raijin began to snigger. Quietly at first, then louder, and louder, until he burst into a full-on belly laugh. Fujin stood there shaking silently, too but then burst into a semi-creepy _hehehehe_ when Raijin began to guffaw and slap his thigh.

Seifer stood motionless, shocked and silent. Selphie was fairly certain she'd just signed her own death warrant.

But, she couldn't help but giggle, too. He'd deserved it, and the look on his face made it _soooo _worth it. Even if he might, possibly, _kill_ her, it was worth it.

* * *

**V**

* * *

I was so stunned by Selphie's behavior that all I could do for a few seconds was just stand there, trying to absorb what had just happened. They were all laughing now, even Fujin.

Traitors. The both of them.

At that moment, I hated them all for laughing at my expense. There Selphie was, being childish about the whole thing and I was the one with the cake on my face, being laughed at by people I'd thought were my friends.

The only thing I could think of to do about it, was retaliate.

I seized a bowl from the hands of the nearest underclassman, who stood there stunned and terrified, and I scooped up a big handful of whatever was inside and went after Selphie. She shrieked and moved out of the way, quicker than I'd anticipated, but I cornered her near the fridge, grabbed her and mashed the goo right into her face.

It was cookie dough, which, unfortunately, didn't have the desired effect. It immediately fell off her face and onto the floor in great big clumps. Selphie could only stand there, agast, at the mess on the floor.

I grabbed at the counter beside me, latched onto the nearest thing I could find, which was Selphie's bowl of frosting. I smeared it all over her face as she kicked at me and squirmed out of the way, but not before I'd given her a taste of her own medicine. Frosting was smeared from her forehead to her chin.

My non-friends were howling with laughter by now, Raijin sitting on the floor with tears rolling down his cheeks.

"What are you laughing at?" I snapped.

"She got you good, ya know?" Raijin laughed. "Smoosh!"

"I"m so _glad_ we could entertain you," I said. "Traitors."

That only made Fujin laugh more, and I found out too late it had nothing to do with what I'd said, but what Selphie was doing.

Out of nowhere, Selphie hit me in the side of the head with a banana cream pie. Hard. The banana pudding filled my ear, one of my nostrils and slid down the side of my face and into my shirt. I could feel it dripping down my chest and my back.

I dug a clump out of my hair and flung it at Raijin, who was near hysteria at all this. It landed on his forehead, which made _me_ laugh.

A full-on four-way food fight ensued, and the two terrified underclassmen split, fearing they might end up involved. Not that I could blame them. We must have looked insane to them, what with chunks of pie, Trabian chocolate cake and various other baked goods flying around.

In spite of everything, it was a hell of a lot of fun.

It ended with Selphie sitting on my chest, her knees pinning my arms to the floor, a tube of decorative frosting in her hands.

"Get off me, you....you, _midget_!" I growled.

It was the best I could come up with, under the circumstances.

"I am not a midget!"

I tried to throw her off, but she stayed put. She was a hell of a lot stronger than she looked, that was for sure.

"This is for almost killing me this morning," she declared, giving the tube a squeeze.

A blob of frosting hung off the edge of the tube and dangled there, as if mocking me. She gave it another squeeze and what felt like a half pound of frosting landed above my left eye. Selphie howled with laughter.

At that moment, Squall walked in, looked around and gaped at the scene before him.

"What the hell is going on in here?"

Selphie began to giggle again and held up the tube of icing.

"We're baking," she said.

Squall stared down at us, uncomprehending.

"Whatever."

Honestly, I don't think he wanted to know. I wouldn't have asked any questions if I were him either.

Selphie got off me, wiped a handful of fudge icing off her face and grinned at Squall.

"Did you need something, Squall?"

"Uh, actually, I did," he said. "I have a special project for you."

"Um, well, thanks, but I've got my hands full with this Student Activities thing. Maybe you could get someone else?"

She had a lot of balls to tell Squall no, I'll give her that. Everyone else, it seemed was so eager to please the young commander that they'd beg for his table scraps if they thought it would get them anywhere.

"It involves flying."

Selphie changed her tune.

"Flying? Well, why didn't you say so? What is it? Do I get to fly the Ragnarok?"

"Woah," Squall said. "Calm down. Just come by my office around four. We'll discuss it then."

"I'll be there," Selphie said, with feeling.

"Don't bring any baked goods with you, okay?"

Raijin sniggered and Selphie sent him a murderous look, but I could tell, she was trying not to laugh.

"I'll be there."

"And, uh, I think something's burning."

Squall pointed to the oven, where black smoke billowed from the oven vent.

"Oh, crap!" Selphie cried. "The brownies!"

* * *

**VI**

* * *

It took the rest of the morning to clean up the mess we'd made, and then the greater part of the afternoon to make up for it. By the time we were done, I was exhausted, Fujin was annoyed and Raijin was full from sampling. We'd had to start over from the beginning, since every last thing we'd made was used as ammunition or burned. And, because we'd frightened off our help, we were down two bodies.

Selphie made up for the loss by recruiting two female cadets she'd found in the cafeteria. Somehow, she'd convinced them to help, and they seemed eager to join in. Luck was in our favor, too. They could actually cook, so Selphie took me off kitchen duty and sent me to the living room with yellow poster board and markers.  
"Make the signs, okay?" she said. "I have to go see Squall."

"How does _Selphie's Badass Baked Goods_ sound to you?" I asked her.

Selphie paled and snatched the marker away from me.

"I'm kidding," I said.

"I will murder you if you screw these up," she warned.

I made the signs, as instructed, without much enthusiasm and then returned to the kitchen. It seemed Raijin, Fujin and the cadets had everything under control, so I got out my books and settled down to study. I had mid terms coming up, and though Selphie promised to help me study the following day, I didn't want or need her help. I studied better alone, anyway.

* * *

**VII**

* * *

Selphie reported to Squall's office just before four. She'd made sure she was cleaned up and presentable before she arrived, and she'd changed into a clean black dress with yellow sunflowers on it. As she waited, she wondered if she should have put on her SeeD uniform instead.

Instead of inviting her into the office, Squall asked her to follow him. He didn't say much on the way to wherever they were going, but Selphie felt like she had to explain what he'd walked in on.

"As long as no one got hurt, I don't need to know, Sef," Squall assured her.

"No one got hurt," she said. "Well, Fujin got lemon juice in her good eye, but she's okay."

"So you and Seifer are getting along all right?"

Selphie wasn't sure how to answer that. She didn't want to have to explain about what had happened this morning. She didn't even know how to feel about it.

"Oh, sure," Selphie said. "Seifer can be kinda grumpy sometimes, but it's working out. I think."

"Good. Glad to hear it," Squall said. "Just try not to put too much on him. His classes are just as important as your projects."

"We have a study session planned for tomorrow, after the bake sale," Selphie informed him. "No worries, Commander. You'll get your gunblade instructor, and he's gonna be great at it."

"Let's hope so," Squall said.

Selphie realized that he was leading her to the hangar, where the Ragnarok was kept and maintained by a small crew of engineers. She began to grow excited about whatever this project was, even if it meant she had to take time away from her real job. Nothing compared to flying. Even the prospect of a fully functional student center.

Squall stopped in front of the hangar. Selphie was eager to go inside, but she had a feeling he was about to brief her on her duties.

"Six months ago, I had a trio of special aircraft comissioned by Esthar's aeronautics department," Squall said. "They were delivered early this morning. No one but me and the ground crew has seen them yet."

"New aircraft?" Selphie almost squealed. "Are they like the Ragnarok?"

"See for yourself," Squall said.

He opened the door and lead Selphie inside, where three shiny new fighter aircraft awaited her inspection. They looked like smaller versions of the Ragnarok, but more streamlined.

Selphie was ecstatic.

"Am I going to get to fly one?"

"You'll be the first," Squall said.

"Woohoo!"

Squall smiled one of his rare smiles, as if he was pleased that she was pleased.

"It's got a state of the art navigation system, seats two and can fly at speeds in excess of six-hundred miles an hour," Squall said, as if proud "They can each carry up to eight X-22 smart target missiles and has an onboard cannon gun that will hold up to four hundred rounds of ammunition. They're fighter jets, Selphie. The first of their kind. I had them specially designed for Garden."

Selphie bounced on her toes, impressed and extremely excited. This had to be the coolest thing she'd ever seen and she could hardly believe that she'd be the first to fly them.

She just had one question.

"What do we need them for?"

"Nothing just yet," Squall said. "I hope we never need to use them."

"But if we do?"

"One of those missiles could take out most of Timber."

Selphie let out a low whistle.

"So I get to blow stuff up?" she asked hopefully.

"Not yet, but eventually we will have to train you to use the missile and cannon controls."

"Okay," she agreed.

This was going to be so much fun. She could hardly wait to get started.

"Starting Monday, I'll need you to report to the hangar every afternoon around this time for training. Once you're accustomed to the craft itself, we'll get you comfortable with the bomb controls."

"Um, why are there three of them?"

"Because, once you've got a handle on it, you'll be training a small team of pilots to fly them."

Selphie wandered over to the closest craft. Near the nose, in loopy, cursive script, was the word, Diabos.

Diablos, Shiva and Doomtrain.

"What about the Student Center?" she asked when she realized that this would take away precious time from her projects and her time getting Seifer ready for his classes.

"It's only a couple hours a day," Squall promised. "At least, until we get a few others trained. After that, we'll only need you a few hours a month to keep you current, just like you've been doing with the Ragnarok."

Pleased, Selphie nodded. She couldn't wait to see exactly what she could do with a craft like this. She'd always wanted to do a barrel roll, but the Ragnarok was too big and too slow to pull it off with out stalling. She was betting that it would be no problem in one of those babies.

"But, Selphie, right now, this is top secret. No one knows about them yet, except for myself and the crew, so keep it quiet for now."

"Of course," Selphie said. "So, can I fly one now?"

* * *

**VIII**

* * *

Quistis Trepe wondered why everyone around her had found someone, except for her. She had long ago given up her girlish hope that she and Squall might end up together, nor could she hate Rinoa for stealing him away. Quistis knew that she could never have brought Squall around the way Rinoa had, and she knew that Squall would never have loved her as much. But that didn't mean that she'd given up on love and being loved, she just didn't know how to go about finding the guy for her. She told herself she didn't need anyone, that she was just fine on her own, but she knew it was a lie.

It was a painful thing to sleep alone. If she could just let down her guard a little bit, maybe it wouldn't be so difficult for her to meet someone. The problem was, Quistis didn't know where to meet men. Certainly not in a bar. And all she did was work. All the men she knew were either already taken or unqualified.

She pondered this as she searched the shelves in the history section of the library for a book about Dollet that she was certain she'd seen the last time she'd been here. She'd been researching her own history for a couple of years and had discovered that she _might_ be related to the ruling family and wanted to read up on the country's history, just in case she was. One could never been too informed. Even if it turned out to be untrue, at least she would have learned something new in the process.

She spotted the book on the top shelf and retrieved a step ladder from the corner. When she reached the top, a voice startled her.

"Great legs."

Quistis looked down, her face flushed at the compliment.

"Don't sneak up on me like that, Irvine," she scolded.

"Sorry. Couldn't help myself," he said.

"You're teasing me," Quistis said as she climbed down, book in hand.

"No, actually, I meant it. You do have great legs."

"Um, thanks," Quistis said. She was never quite sure how to take his flirtations.

"So, what are you reading?"

Quistis told him what she'd found out about her past and he seemed genuinely interested. She hadn't told anyone about her research, and she wasn't sure why she was telling Irvine, except that lately, no one else was particularly interested in what Quistis was doing.

"You could be, like, royalty?" Irvine asked.

"Distantly related," she said.

"That's cool. You could be a princess or something."

"Hardly," Quistis laughed. "I probably come from the black sheep side of the family. If I'm related at all."

"Still," Irvine said. "That's more than I know about myself. Hell, I never even bothered to look. I figure, whatever happened was because of the war, and whatever family I've got either doesn't know about me or doesn't care."

"That's one way of looking at it," Quistis said. "But you've never been curious?"

"From time to time, but what good does it do?" he asked. "Stirs up a bunch of hard feelings that are better left in the dust."

Quistis wanted to be like Irvine and be able to let the past go, but she couldn't. There was a part of her that had to know the truth, no matter how painful or upsetting it might be. Because, at least then, she'd know. Only then could she let it be.

"I'm not saying you shouldn't look, though," Irvine continued. "So long as you don't get your hopes too high. You might find out some stuff that you're better off not knowing."

Sometimes, it was easy to forget that Irvine was the most down to earth of them all, and he possessed a kind of wisdom that was beyond his years. That was, when he wasn't flirting with everything in a skirt.

"So what's Selphie up to today?"

"Activities stuff," Irvine said, sounding glum.

"You're not happy for her?"

"I am. I'm glad she's got something to call her own now, but we just...we don't get to spend much time together these days," he admitted. "It's easy to forget the way we felt about one another a year ago with all this other stuff going on."

"You still love her though, right?"

"Of course I do."

There was something in the way Irvine said it that was almost defensive. Quistis got the feeling that something was going on, she just didn't know what.

"Enough talk about Selphie," Irvine said, turning on the charm. "Why don't we grab a cup of coffee and you can tell me more about this royal family of yours."

* * *

A/N:

Wench:. To those that added us to their favorites, alerts and whatnot, we are grateful, and we thank you from the bottom of our warm, fuzzy little hearts. To those we haven't heard from yet, maybe we'll hear from you soon? We'd love to hear what you think, so send us a message or leave a review. :) And thanks, ever so much for reading, period. That little hit counter thing is like a drug.

PodSara: We debated for a long time about the first part of this chapter....about whether or not to have them fool around at this stage in the story. I'm still on the fence. But, without it, it's mostly just Selphie being annoying and Seifer bitching about it. It adds an element of tension without making it total fluff. At least, we hope so. So, readers....stay tuned and don't forget to review!


	6. A Thousand Words

Author's Note: UPDATE...so it's been a while since either Sara or I have posted anything here. I apologize for that and I hope we haven't lost too many readers in the time that's lapsed between the last update and now. Life happens, you know? Anyway, I ran across the remaining chapters of this story and re-read them, and I was struck by how much fun it was. The story, the characters, what we did with the story and the characters, and I can honestly say this is the most fun I've ever had writing anything in my life. That's due, in part, to my co-author's diabolical sense of humor and to the way we both viewed the character development. There's such a fine balance between the outright hilarious and the serious in this one. It's not a parody, but at times it feels like one. It's not a drama but there are parts that actually made me cry upon re-reading. It's not exactly an action, but in later chapters, there's plenty of that.

I truly, truly love this story. I'm glad I found it and and I'm glad we had the chance to finish it before life took us in different directions. This story was finished a long time ago, folks. Now, it's just a matter of tweaking it, fine-tuning the remainder, and finding time to post.

CHAPTER SIX_  
A Thousand Words_

* * *

**I**

* * *

In the morning I reported for duty in the quad and found Selphie already there, along with my ex-best friends and the two underclassmen that Selphie had recruited to bake yesterday. One of the girls smiled as if she had no fear of me and waved as if we were old friends. The other pointedly ignored me.

Selphie handed me a small cash box and pointed me toward the table, which was loaded with baked goods. I was surprised at how much was actually there, given the amount we'd wasted during our food war. There were piles of brownies, cookies, and cupcakes. Mounds of lemon bars, pies, cakes and popcorn balls. Selphie had actually pulled it off, no thanks to me. I was almost proud of her.

Almost.

"Raijin, Fujin and I are going to go drum up some business," Selphie informed me. "Can I trust you not to scare off the help?"

I chuckled. There wasn't much I could say to that. The help would be scared, even if I did nothing. My very presence was scary. She had to know that, or else she was very, very naive.

"I'm serious, Seifer," Selphie said. Her voice was deadly. "This is a make or break endeavor. We have to make some kind of profit or else we lose the student center."

"Oh, geez, can you be more dramatic?" I mumbled. "It's a freaking bake sale. You make it sound like it's life or death."

Selphie eyed me for a long, unnerving moment, in which she said nothing and didn't smile.

"Who says it isn't?" she finally said.

With that, she turned on her heel and headed out with my posse in tow.

Feeling utterly defeated, I sat down at the table, next to the girl who'd smiled at me. She gave me a sympathetic look and pretended to arrange cupcakes on a platter while the other girl surveyed me from the corner of her eye, as if I might attack at any second. I just sat there, trying to think of ways to get out of this without pissing Selphie off. Then I started thinking of ways to get out of it that would piss her off. Then, I just plotted ways to piss her off. Getting out of it would only be a bonus.

We had a few customers, but not many. I could see students and staff alike looking at the table from a distance, as if they were working up the courage to approach, but only a few brave souls had the guts to actually do it.

"You're...Instructor Almasy, right?" the friendly girl finally asked.

She'd run out of baked goods to organize into perfectly straight grids, and boredom must have taken over.

"Not yet," I admitted.

"But you will be soon," she said confidently. "I'm Alana Milovich. I'm going to be in your gun blade classes next semester."

"You?"

"Yup," she said, obviously proud of herself.

I allowed myself to take a good look at the kid. She didn't exactly fit the mold of a typical blader. For starters, she was a girl, and as a rule, girls didn't fight with a gun blade. At least, none that I'd ever heard of. The weapon was heavy and tough to handle without substantial upper body strength.

Alana couldn't have been older than sixteen, though her appearance made it difficult to actually tell for sure. She was small, but wiry, and I could tell she was a tough one. There was a certain look in her eyes, a determination that reminded me of myself. And a sadness that reminded me of Squall. I knew without asking that Alana was one of the kids brought here from an orphanage somewhere, a kid someone had abandoned for one reason or another. .

"How long have you been training?" I asked.

"Since I was eight," she said.

"Should I remember you?"

Alana shook her head. "I transferred in from Trabia after..."

I looked down at my hands, knowing which _after_she meant. After I'd ordered Trabia Garden blown to hell.

No matter what I did, no matter how I tried to fool myself, it would always be there to remind me. In their eyes and in their words, in their memories of their own pasts. They would always have some link to my heinous deeds. There would always be someone who was connected to what I'd done. There would always be someone who'd been hurt or lost a friend, a family member, to my tyranny. And there would never be a way for me to adequately repay my debts or atone for my crimes. No matter how hard I tried, no matter how much I changed, the burden would always be there. There would always be some reminder of my past.

Always.

I almost gave up right then and there. I almost got up and walked out. What good was remorse and atonement, when I'd have to look at kids like Alana and know that what I had done had directly impacted their lives in some way? What purpose did it serve when there was no way to escape it or repair it? I'd be haunted by it forever and there was nothing I could do about that.

Suddenly, I was angry. Not with Alana but with myself and my stupid, idiotic and childish dreams. I was angry that I'd been given freedom, but there would never be a second chance. I could do nothing to make it right.

Nothing at all.

"I'm sorry," Alana said quietly. "I didn't mean to remind you. I know it must be hard."

I couldn't think of anything to say that didn't involve a string of curse words.

"Most of us know that it wasn't your fault," Alana said. "So, don't be so hard on yourself."

"Easier said than done," I said, wishing we could change the subject.

Alana smiled at me, and I realized that she wasn't a bad looking kid. Too young for me, obviously, and not really my type, but some day, she was going to break a few hearts. She had pretty green eyes, auburn hair, a sprinkling of freckles across her nose. She'd never win any contests, but she had a kind of understated beauty that she'd never have to work to achieve, either.

She put her hand on my arm and looked at me, her earnest eyes revealing more than I cared to know. She didn't need to say what she said next, for me to understand that everyone has ghosts.

"Instructor, I don't pretend to understand why bad things happen. They just do," she said. "But I do know that Hyne only gives you what you can handle, good or bad. And it's those tragedies and wounds that make us stronger in the long run. I know it's hard now, but some day you'll look back and see how far you've come, and you'll be proud of yourself, and your accomplishments, in spite of what you did. I'd bet money on it."

"What would you know about it, kid?" I asked bitterly.

"Well, you're here, aren't you? Isn't that enough?"

How did this kid get to be so wise? What the hell kind of tragedies had this sixteen year old girl faced in her lifetime?

Alana Milovich was damaged goods. That much was clear. Someone, somewhere along the way, had wounded her, either through abuse or neglect. Someone had abandoned her, left her on her own to deal with whatever it was that she'd lived through.

Here was this kid that had been abandoned, maybe abused, who had every reason in the world to walk around with a chip on her shoulder. Here was a girl who'd been directly affected by my actions, who had every reason in the world to hate my guts. Yet she didn't. She had hope, and what seemed like respect for me. Me, of all people. And it gave me hope. Hope that maybe I did have a shot at fixing things, of becoming a better man.

"Anyway, I didn't mean to make you feel bad," Alana finished.

"I was already feeling pretty shitty," I said. "No harm, no foul, kid."

"A bunch of us are really looking forward to being in your class," she said.

"Yeah?"

"You're a legend, Instructor. Having you teach us is just as good as having Commander Leonhart as our instructor. No matter how they feel about you personally, they all know how good you are, and we can't wait to see what you have to teach us."

I wondered if she was telling the truth. Could the kids really be that interested in learning from _me_? I hoped they weren't hyping it into something that it wasn't. I didn't breathe fire or wield six blades at once. I couldn't shoot laser beams out of my ass and I couldn't kill a man with just my pinkie and index finger, as the rumors had claimed.

"Aren't you excited to teach us?" she asked.

I was a little worried that teaching wouldn't suit me, so _excited_wasn't really the word I would use to describe how I was feeling, but I went with it.

"Kind of," I said.

"I think you're going to be an awesome instructor," Alana declared.

I had grave doubts about that. Teaching required a great deal of patience, something I've never had. It required a commitment I wasn't sure I wanted to, or even could make. I'd be lucky if I was even considered an adequate teacher. Who knew? After a semester, Cid might decide he'd made an unwise decision, pull my license and put me on the janitorial staff.

"Thanks," I said.

There was nothing else I could say on the subject.

"I think Selphie would really like it if you became a regular," I said. "You know, part of the activities club."

I hadn't meant to say that. Some how, some way, Selphie was infiltrating my brain. Soon, she'd have complete control, just like Ultimecia.

Okay, maybe that was a little much. As annoying, crazy, and bi-polar as Selphie was, she would never, ever be in the same class of insane as Ultimecia. Nobody in this world could even come close. Not even Selphie.

"That might be fun," she admitted. "Not really my sort of thing, but Miss Tilmitt can be...persuasive."

I couldn't help but chuckle at her careful choice of words.

"You mean pushy."

"I was trying to be diplomatic."

I decided Alana was a pretty cool kid, and I was glad to have at least one fan in my future class. Having a kid eager to learn from me was something new, and I appreciated it, even though I didn't say it.

"Maybe you could convince a few of your friends to sign up," I said.  
"Maybe," Alana said, appearing to consider it.

"Think about it, and get back to us," I said. "No pressure."

Several long minutes passed, where no one spoke. I watched people walk by, glance at the table with hungry longing in their eyes and then continue on their way. If I hadn't been sitting there, things would be different. The two girls were fairly innocuous, but I might as well have been a big, fat roach, crawling all over the brownies. A turd on top of the apple pie. No one came near us.

"Chicken-wuss alert," Alana said beside me, sounding very pleased with herself.

It surprised a laugh out of me to know that my nickname for Zell had stuck. That, of everything I'd done, was the only thing I was proud of.

There he was, twenty yards away, eying the table as if he hadn't eaten in weeks. His sense of self preservation must have kept him from coming any closer, though. He remained immobile, torn between his desire to consume a couple of delicious, sugary treats and the fear that I'd revisit my old habit of giving him a wedgie any time he was within arm's reach.

Hunger must have won out. He approached the table with caution and his eyes flicked from the baked goods to me, as if I might suddenly lunge over the table, grab his underpants and yank them over his head.

Which, by the way, is a difficult thing to do, but not impossible. Don't ask me how I know.

"How much for a cup cake?" Zell asked Alana.

"Ten Gil each," she answered.

I definitely liked Alana's style. She'd doubled Selphie's designated pricing system, simply because she knew about Zell's reputation with food. Zell didn't even hesitate.

"I'll take six."

Zell handed over his money and selected six cupcakes from the plate, making sure to stuff one in his mouth and swallow it whole before moving on to the next. No wonder the guy didn't have a girlfriend.

Under the table, Alana kicked me. I took that as permission to heckle Zell without mercy.

"So. Chicken-Wuss. Long time, no see," I said cheerily.

He eyed me, deeply suspicious and very nervous, pausing for a moment before shoving a third cupcake down his throat.

"S'up?" he said.

Then he stuffed the entire cupcake into his mouth. It was like watching a snake swallow a rat. I swear, I saw his jaw dislocate as he forced it down his gullet without chewing.

"Those cupcakes are pretty good, hunh?" I said. "Fujin made 'em herself. It was pretty cool of her to help out, being that she was as sick as she was."

Zell's eyes widened.

"Ick?" he asked through a mouthful of cupcake.

"Oh, yeah. Coughing, sneezing, puking," I said. "She's a trooper, though. She barely coughed on anything. Though, she may have puked in the icing a little. But you'd never know. They taste great."

Zell spat out the half digested cupcake, inhaled and then began to choke. Alana was on her feet and at his side in an instant, trying her best to hide her laughter. She began to pound Zell on the back until he dislodged the offending blob of cupcake. It flew from his mouth and landed with a loud, audible plop.

Right on Quistis' shoe.

Ooops.

"Zell Dincht," Quistis said with disgust, "how many times have I told you to chew before you swallow? For Hyne's sake, _you are not a human vacuum cleaner_!"

I couldn't hold back my laughter anymore. Nor could Alana. Her amusement with the situation rivaled my own, and I decided I liked her a whole lot more for it. It takes a special kind of kid to appreciate the finer points of peer ridicule. Especially when that ridicule was directed at someone she was supposed to view as superior.

"But they're selling tainted baked goods!" Zell cried. "They're covered in germs!"

"What in the world are you talking about?"

"Fujin is sick. She puked in the icing!" Zell explained. "I didn't want to get sick, too. I hate puking!"

"I don't know where you got that idea," Quistis scoffed, "but she's not sick. I just saw her ten minutes ago."

"She's not?"

"Not at all."

"But-"

"Zell, seriously, you have to get this eating thing under control. It's not normal to choke on your food every other day," Quistis said. "I think you need to go see Dr. Kadowaki about this. It can't be healthy."

"But-!"

"No buts, Zell. You can't expect to remain an instructor if this is how you behave," Quistis said.

Beside me, Alana burst into giggles again, which sent me into another round of laughter.

"And what are you two laughing about?" Quistis asked us.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am," Alana choked out, still shaking with laughter. "It's just-well, it _was_funny."

Quistis eyed the two of us with suspicion but then decided she didn't care to know the answer.

"How about a slice of Trabian Chocolate cake?" Alana asked innocently. "It's fantastic."

"That sounds...amazing," Quistis said, eyeing the cake. "How much for the whole thing?"

* * *

**II**

* * *

"Two thousand Gil, Seifer! Two thousand Gil!" Selphie screeched.

Her little fists wrapped around wads of Gil, and she shook them at me, as if to make her point. It looked absolutely ridiculous, like something out of a really bad heist movie. She'd just finished calculating the take, minus expenses, and it was bigger than I'd expected. Apparently, once the student body saw that Zell and Quistis survived their encounter with me, they'd collectively decided it was safe enough and had swamped us. To my surprise, we sold everything we had by ten A.M.

"See what happens when you put your heart into it, Seifer? Good things happen!" Selphie gushed, dancing around the office, clutching the wads of Gil to her chest.

Apparently, she was no longer angry with me. Sad that I couldn't decide if this was a good thing or a bad thing. When she was happy, I wanted to kill myself. When she was angry, I feared for my life. Kind of a toss up, really.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever," I said. "Trying to study over here."

"Oh, yeah. You've got to do your photography project today, too, right?" she asked, and stuffed the Gil back into the cash box.

I didn't want to think about the photography project. Where in the hell was I going to find a subject willing to let me take their picture? Everyone was terrified of me, and I didn't have the guts to ask any of the girls in my class, for fear of being accused of something. Nor did I want to ask any of the guys because, well, taking pictures of a guy just didn't interest me.

"What are you supposed to do again?" Selphie asked, perching on the edge of my desk.

"Artsy-fartsy portraits, in an outdoor setting," I mumbled. "In both black and white and color film."

"Who are you gonna use?"

"Don't know."

"You mean you don't have a subject?" Selphie asked. "What are you going to do? You have to turn something in!"

"No, I don't have a subject. I don't know, and I know that," I said, answering all of her questions.

Selphie suddenly jumped off the desk and began to bounce on her toes. Obviously, she had an idea, and I was pretty sure I was going to hate it.

"I'll do it!" she cried. "I volunteer to be your subject!"

"Selphie, no. Not a good idea."

"You have a better idea then?"

"Not really."

"So what's the problem? You need a subject. I like getting my picture taken. Why not?"

"Because."

"That's not an answer."

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Pretty please?"

"Selphie-"

"Pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty please with icing and sprinkles on top?"

Now I knew for sure why Irvine was cheating on this little monster. She was like a three year old in a woman's body. How he'd managed to stay with her this long was some kind of miracle. He deserved a medal or something for putting up with it in the first place.

"Seifer, ?"

"Oh, for the love of HYNE!" I bellowed, getting to my feet. "Will you just shut up? Just stop talking for one fucking minute, will you?"

Selphie's face crumpled and I thought for a second she was going to cry. But then she balled up her fists and her eyes narrowed. I knew right then and there that it was best if I just let her have her way. I took a deep breath and sat back down.

"Go put on something that's not yellow," I said without enthusiasm. "And put on some make-up or something."

For a second, Selphie didn't know what to do. She stood there looking confused. Then her whole face lit up and she launched herself at me, throwing her bony arms around my neck.

"YEEEEESSSS!" she cried in my ear.

"Get off me, or I'll change my mind."

* * *

**III**

* * *

We went to a small meadow at the foot of the mountains, where daisies bloomed against the pale green of the prairie grass. In the background the mountains were violet and blue and dark gray. Selphie had chosen to wear a pale pink sun dress that could have passed for a nightgown, but it worked for what I had in mind. She let the wind destroy her perfectly flipped hair and she danced in circles like a child in front of my camera. I took three rolls of color shots, some close ups, some of her posed against the backdrop of the mountains and some of her goofing off. In spite of my displeasure of having Selphie as my subject, she was very photogenic, and those eyes of hers popped in the sunlight. Not to mention, she was an absolute ham in front of the camera.

The black and whites were harder. These were supposed to be more intimate, more personal. I didn't want to get any more personal with Selphie than I already was, but I didn't have another option. I would just have to suck it up and pray that it worked out in my favor.

I had her sit down so that the wild grass was above her head and told her to look serious as she peeked out at me through the thick blades of grass. Her hair was wild and she'd put daisies in it without me telling her to. Nevertheless, It was going to be a beautiful shot, and I didn't even have to try to make it so.

"Lay down," I instructed.

It was hard to think of her as a subject and not a person, not Selphie, who made me crazy and talked my ear off about stuff I didn't even care about. Selphie, who'd taken over my life, had stolen my friends, badgered me into selling baked goods.

Selphie, who'd broken into my room and had been the first to touch me with tenderness in years.

I immediately cut off that thought and forced myself to think about the way she'd browbeaten me into this. Thinking about her any other way was just plain stupid. And dangerous.

She did as I asked, smiling a seductive half-smile that I couldn't resist taking a shot of. That smile did nothing to help me to stop thinking about her in ways I shouldn't.

"Arm above your head," I said, "and put your other hand on your chest."

"Should I take off my shoes?" she asked.

I looked at her sandal clad feet and nodded. She kicked them off and I took them from her, then, without thinking, reached over and hitched her dress up a little, just enough to reveal a hint of thigh.

What I saw through the lens of my camera almost did me in. The girl in the viewfinder was not Selphie anymore, but some wild nymphet, smiling at me in a dreamy, but provocative way.

Great Hyne on the mountain top, what the hell was I doing? What was I thinking?

"Perfect," I mumbled as I snapped the shot..

She giggled and closed her eyes, and apparently had no idea what she was doing to me. I had to keep it under control, or else I was going to do something I really, really regretted.

"You're really good at this," she said.

"It's just a class," I said, taking a shot of her laying like that, looking up at me with praise in her eyes.

"But you like it."

"So what if I do?" I said. "It's still just a class. Now shut up. I'm working here."

She was right, though. I was enjoying this. Maybe a little too much for my own good. Posing her like this made it hard to think of her as the annoying little midget that I'd been forced to work with. I hadn't noticed before, but she was beautiful in her own way. Her eyes alone were enough to slay a man.

Too bad about her personality.

I took a few more posed shots and then a couple close-ups of her face. She let me turn her head this way and that, patiently following my instructions without complaint or even a hit of her usual restlessness.

"Okay," I said. "Let's pack it in."

"Let me take one of you," she said, tucking a daisy behind her ear. I snapped the shot, just for the hell of it.

"No," I said.

"Come on," she said. "Please."

"No."

"Just one little shot."

"You're just going to keep bugging me till I say yes, aren't you?"

"You catch on quick," she said with a grin.

With great reluctance, I handed her the camera.

"One. That's it."

"I get to pose you like you did me," she said with obvious glee.

"Just make it quick."

She looked around thoughtfully and pointed to a spot where the mountains were closer.

"Over there."

I heaved a sigh and followed her instructions.

"Now, unbutton that shirt," she ordered with a wide grin.

"_What?_"

"Unbutton it."

Knowing better than to argue, I did as she asked, and her grin widened. I was terribly uncomfortable with this. I crammed my hands in the pockets of my jeans and glared at her, ready to be done with this.

"Hurry up and take the damned picture."

She shook her head and held the camera up, looking at me through the viewfinder.

"I want a picture of the real Seifer."

"I_ am_the real Seifer," I said. "Now take the picture."

"Nope," she said. "I want the Seifer who actually gives a damn. The nice guy I know you're hiding in there somewhere. The guy that gave me a cactus to make up for being a butthead."

I blushed and looked down, embarrassed that she'd bring it up.

I heard the camera shutter click.

Startled, I looked up and scowled at her.

"Okay, you got your picture. Now give it back."

"There are three more pictures on the roll," she said. "Might as well use them."

"Come on, Sef," I said placatingly. "Enough."

"You're no fun, you know that?" she teased. "You need to relax and just go with it. Let loose."

"Keep it up and I'll let loose on your head, now give me back my camera."

"Quit whining, will you? Now, go stand over there and look off into the distance like you're deep in thought."

I knew I was just going to have to give her what she wanted or she'd just whine at me until I gave in. I heaved a sigh and did what she asked. I thought she was done, but she wasn't. She made me sit with my back against a tree, barefoot, with my arms crossed over my knees.

"Now look at me," she said, aiming the camera at me.

I glared up at her, irritated by this whole thing, and waited for her to take the stupid picture.

"Don't look at me like that. We're having fun, so act like it."

"_You're_having fun," I corrected. "I am annoyed, and this is my annoyed face, so take the fucking picture and let's get out of here."

"Cry baby. You sound like Zell."

That surprised a laugh out of me, mostly because it made me remember the dream I'd had of taunting Zell. She chose that moment to take the shot, of me with my head thrown back, laughing. One more to go, and then we could leave.

"You have a nice smile when you're not being mean," she commented. "No wonder Rinoa fell for you."

"Selphie, this is stupid."

She flashed me a smile and shook her head.

"No, it's not."

"Hyne, this was a mistake," I muttered.

She was quiet for a moment.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Depends on what it is," I said.

"Did you love her?"

"Who, Rinoa?"

"Yeah," she asked, looking more serious than I'd ever seen her look.

I thought about that for a moment. I forgot about Selphie and the camera and remembered what that summer with Rinoa had been like. Rinoa had been the first girl I'd dated that was _about_something, rather than about herself. She'd been so passionate about saving Timber, so committed to her cause, and that made her seem more alive than any girl I'd ever met. I remembered the way her cheeks had colored when she talked about her hatred of Vinzer Deling, the way her eyes sparkled when she looked at me. I remembered getting her drunk for the first time, and I remembered her slaughtering me at pool more than once, and the way her legs looked in a short skirt.

But had I loved her?

"I guess I did," I admitted. "In my own way. Closest I ever came to being in love, anyway."

Selphie snapped the final picture then and handed the camera back to me, grinning.

"There's hope for you yet, Seifer Almasy."

I wanted to choke her.

* * *

A/N: Pod Sara - More set up for later pay-offs. One, Alana becomes an important character later on, particularly where Seifer's concerned. Two, we debated about whether to use the photography class for more than just a credit that Seifer has to take to get his instructor's license. I could kind of see Seifer enjoying photography because sometimes, looking through the lens gives you perspective, and sometimes it separates you from reality. I kind of thought it could be used as a vehicle to serve both purposes, and we also wanted to give him an unexpected talent that was a little more introspective and didn't involve violence. Anyway, it does have it's uses later.

Wench: Ditto to what Sara said. Plus, look for some Quistis/Irvine passages in the next chapter. I'm pretty sure what we've done is going to get us flamed, but we're not there yet. Hope you enjoy the exchange between Alana and Seifer, and Seifer and Selphie. Plus, this is Zell's first appearance, and I had a lot of fun writing it. Originally, Seifer's first encounter with Zell was going to be a bit less comedic and a lot more violent, but in the context of the story (Seifer trying to be 'good') we decided a more passive-aggressive approach would be better. And funnier. Plus, Seifer gets to bond with Alana, who, as Sara mentioned, plays a fairly important role later in the story.


	7. Preludes and Nocturnes

**A/N:** So, this is where we get flamed. Don't say we didn't warn you.

**Chapter Seven**  
Preludes and Nocturnes

* * *

_"I got a tortured mind _  
_and my blade is sharp_  
_a bad combination in the dark_  
_if I kill a man in the first degree_  
_baby, would you flee with me?"_  
Sinister Kid, The Black Keys

* * *

**I  
**

* * *

Irvine looked troubled as he sipped his beer. He'd been uncharacteristically silent over coffee earlier, so Quistis had finally broken down and asked him to join her for a drink in the SeeD lounge, which at this hour of the afternoon, was deserted. At this hour, it was also rather unorthodox, if not outright unprofessional. Quistis didn't even care. She could use a drink, and badly. Her week had been long and hard, and she was flat-out sick of the bureaucracy involved in her job. There were forms for everything and they all had to be approved, processed, filled and filed. She could barely cough without having to get approval.

Quistis and Irvine been spending a lot of time together lately, mostly over coffee in the afternoons, and Quistis found herself understanding Irvine in a way she hadn't before. There was so much more to him than the loner-sharpshooter business. She'd seen bits of the earthy philosopher in him in the past, but Quistis was surprised at just how down to earth the man really was. Sure, he had a wandering eye and he was a first class horn-dog, but he was also rather deep and insightful when he wanted to be. Selphie had never really given her the opportunity to talk with him much after things settled down, and Quistis found herself wishing she'd gotten to know Irvine long before this.

"I'm thinking of breaking up with her," Irvine finally said.

Quists was shocked. While she knew about the affair with his secretary, she'd always thought Irvine's heart belonged to Selphie. She figured he'd eventually grow out of it and settle down with the pint sized powerhouse that was Selphie Tilmitt. Knowing that he was thinking of leaving Selphie was something of a surprise.

"What?" Quistis asked. "Why?"

"It just isn't working. She never has time for me anymore, and when she does, all she talks about is work. The fire's gone, you know?" Irvine said. "I love her. Don't get me wrong. I just need something she can't give me."

"Love's not enough?" Quistis asked. Somehow she'd always believed that love could conquer any obstacle. Maybe that was unrealistic, but she thought so long as both parties were willing to sacrifice and believe, nothing else mattered.

"Not by a long shot, Quisty," Irvine said and took a long pull from his bottle of beer. "Believe me, I wanted things to work, but with Selphie, it's all or nothing, and at the moment, I'm the nothing."

"That's not true," Quistis said. "She's crazy about you. You know that."

"Maybe she is, but it isn't enough. Not for me."

Quistis was stunned. She didn't know what to think, and she got the feeling he wanted some advice. Quistis was the last person who needed to be giving advice about relationships. She hadn't a clue what she was supposed to say, or if she was supposed to say anything at all.

"Anyway, I haven't made up my mind yet," Irvine said, taking another long swallow of beer. "I keep hoping she'll do something to change my mind, that she'll wake up tomorrow and be the girl I fell in love with. I don't want to leave her, but..."

"But you're not happy," Quistis finished.

Irvine just nodded and signaled the bartender to bring him another round.

"Enough about me," Irvine said. "How goes that search for your family? Any progress?"

"Maybe," she said, taking a sip of her own beer. "I think I found a cousin, anyway. We're going to set up a interlink call this week, so I'll let you know how it goes. Other than that, nothing new to report. A lot of records were lost when Galbadia took Dollet."

"It's a shame, isn't it?" Irvine mused. "A whole generation of people with no history. So many kids ended up like we did. In orphanages or foster care. It's no wonder so many of us are screwed up."

"We're not screwed up," Quistis said. "Damaged, maybe, but not screwed up."

"No?" Irvine asked. "Then why does every one of us push others away when they get too close? Why do we resort to extreme behavior to cover up the fact that we're flawed? "

"We don't."

"You're wrong about that," Irvine said. "Seifer uses sarcasm and violence to scare people away, even though at heart, he's not really a bad guy. Selphie uses her overwhelming enthusiasm and pretends to be happy all the time, even though she's not. Zell runs away every time a girl shows an interest and then mopes about it for weeks."

Irvine paused to take a swallow of beer before he continued. Quistis couldn't believe he was saying all this, even though he was right.

"And me?" he said. "Well, I cheat because I want to get caught. A little part of me wants Selphie to leave me so that I won't be the one who leaves her. I can't bear the idea of being the next person to abandon her. Even though I already have."

"What about Squall? Is he screwed up too?"

"Actually, he's the only one of us who turned out fairly normal. Go figure," Irvine mused, "but I think it's because of Rinoa. Somehow, she brings out the best in him. But he's the exception."

Quistis thought about that for a long moment. While what he said was right, she didn't believe that it necessarily meant they were all screwed up. Hell, most people had some fatal flaw that held them back. It didn't mean they were screwed up, it just meant they were human.

Then she realized something.

"What about me?" she asked. "Where have I gone wrong?"

"You are too damned smart for your own good, and you're so afraid of losing control that it puts people off," Irvine said. "It's intimidating."

"I'm intimidating?" Quistis asked, surprised.

"Hell, Quistis," Irvine drawled, "take a look at yourself in the mirror some time, will you? Drop dead gorgeous and a genius IQ don't often come rolled up into one amazing package like that. Not to mention, you're a deadly fighter and too serious and it makes you very, very unapproachable. But it's all an act."

Quistis was a little pissed at him for being so honest. He was mostly right, but he didn't have to be so blunt about it.

"It isn't an act."

"Yes it is," Irvine said, "and you know it. Behind that cool, collected, beautiful nun-like exterior is a woman who's dying to be set free. Growing up, you always had to be the adult. You were never gave yourself the chance to be a kid. Letting lose, throwing caution to the wind, taking a risk...you're not willing to go there because it means you might lose your composure, and if you lose your composure, you might hurt your pride, and pride is pretty much all you have."

Now Quistis was furious with him, but she didn't know what to say because he was right. Her greatest fear was to lose control. She didn't want anyone to see her as weak.

"I mean, look at you," Irvine said softly. He leaned in a little and brushed the back of his hand against her cheek. "Not a hair out of place. Perfectly starched and pressed. Perfect posture. Calm and unflappable even though I've pissed you off."

Quistis tried not to tremble under his gaze or his light touch. Maybe it was the beer, or his frighteningly accurate assessment, but she understood that she was about to cross a line that neither had any business crossing.

Without thinking about it, she leaned her cheek into the palm of his hand and closed her eyes. It was wrong to enjoy this, wrong to want him, but she couldn't help it. She needed affection as badly as she needed air.

"I bet, under the right circumstances, you'd come undone," Irvine murmured in her ear, "and I don't think I'd mind being the guy who showed you that side of yourself."

Quistis pulled away and stared at him. What was he saying? Her cheeks colored and she looked away. Hyne, he was smooth. It was no wonder he could get any girl he wanted, what with his ability to read people and with lines like that one. Quistis was just glad she wasn't drunk enough yet to fall for it.

"You're full of crap, Kinneas," she said.

"Don't tell me you haven't thought about it."

"So what if I have?" she asked. "Doesn't change anything. You're dating one of my best friends. You're about to break her heart. That means you're off limits and always will be."

"Selphie would forgive you. You know that."

"She'd blow up my car," Quistis said. "And anyway, how can you justify doing this to her? If you love her, you wouldn't be chasing your secretary or Dr. K's nursing student or Instructor Dai. Or me, for that matter."

"I love her. I'm just not in love with her."

"You can't have it both ways," Quistis said, getting to her feet. "And you can't have _me_."

* * *

**II**

* * *

I logged a few hours at the firing range and then headed to the photo lab to develop my pictures. It was fascinating to watch the way the image slowly appeared on the paper as it lay in the developing tray. One by one, I developed my images in the silence of the lab, and I grew more and more impressed as I hung each one up to dry. I lost track of time, and before I knew it, it was almost two and I hadn't a bite to eat all day. But I didn't care. I was too wrapped up in my work.

Selphie looked amazing in just about every shot, even the ones where she was goofing off. In some of them, she looked like a little girl, and in others a woman with secrets in her eyes. She was a total chameleon, and I couldn't help but be impressed, not just with myself, but with her, too. Using Selphie as my model hadn't been such a bad idea after all. It was a guaranteed A, for sure, and that's all I cared about.

The last four were of me, the ones Selphie had taken, and I was kind of surprised at how they'd turned out. Selphie had an eye for good shots, and in spite of myself, I had to admit, they were impressive. In the first, I looked like a boy who'd just been scolded, my head hung in shame. The second, contemplative as I looked at the mountains in the distance, a cigarette dangling from my lips. The third, I was laughing at what Selphie had said and I looked like the happiest guy in the world, which was only half true.

The final photo bugged me. My expression was so vulnerable, so open that I didn't look like me at all. I looked like some softy who wore his heart on his sleeve, and I hated it. Part of me wanted to throw it away, to destroy the negative, but I couldn't make myself do it. For one thing, disregarding the fact that it was me, it was a great picture. She'd caught me in the moment, and I'd learned enough to know that good candids were hard to get, especially those that reveal who the person really is. And this one told a lot. It was proof that even Seifer Almasy had moments of weakness. Not that I wanted it out there that I was anything less than a nightmare, but maybe some day someone might see it and be surprised.

I cleaned up, took down my finished prints and carefully stacked them and then headed back to Selphie's office, tired and feeling a little raw on the inside. It had been a long, frustrating weekend. Being around Selphie so much had drained me, yet I was forced to check in with her, even if I didn't want to.

I couldn't figure out what was going on there. I was violently attracted to the irritating little dwarf, as evidenced by the incident in my bedroom the day before, yet I couldn't stand the sight of her. Nor could I tolerate the sound of her voice droning on and on endlessly about her plans. Sometimes, she was almost a friend. Other times she was my jailer. One minute, we got along. The next, she made me want to duct tape her mouth shut and stuff her in a closet somewhere down in the MD level where no one would ever find her. And she had an annoying tendency to draw me out and get me to admit to things that I didn't want to admit to.

Well, I would just have to make sure I didn't let her get to me in the future. No more letting down my guard just because she was disarming. No more letting her trick me into talking.

I hated the fact that Selphie was growing on me, even if it was just a little bit. Still, I was practically counting the days till I was free of her. I couldn't handle being shackled to her long term. I'd end up buying into her_ sunshine, peace and love_philosophy and wind up as crazy as she was. I could only hope to get through this unscathed so that I could finally start my life again.

* * *

**III**

* * *

Irvine wandered the halls of Garden for a while, trying to figure out why he'd come on to Quistis. He'd known she wouldn't go for it, but he'd pushed the issue, and now their developing friendship was at risk. Irvine found he couldn't abide that. He had to fix it somehow. Above all else, he valued Quistis' friendship and couldn't leave things as they were. Especially considering how he felt about her. Somehow, over the course of all their afternoon chats, he'd realized he was half in love with Quistis Trepe. Should she choose to turn her eyes his way, he'd gladly fall at her feet. Lately, he'd found himself daydreaming about her when he used to daydream about Selphie. That in itself told him he and Selphie were finished.

He wasn't sure what he'd been doing when he'd come on to her in the SeeD lounge. All he knew that he was very, very attracted to Quistis Trepe and had been for a long time. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, and now he wished he'd kept his mouth shut. Still, there was value in honesty, and there was a lot to be said for telling someone how you feel.

Eventually, Irvine wound up in front of Quistis' door. He hesitated a moment before knocking. What he was about to do was very stupid, and very, very dangerous. It would either ruin a budding friendship or be the beginning of something that had the potential to hurt two people that he cared about. He was going to have to be very careful.

Quistis answered the door when he knocked. She didn't look at all surprised to see him. Angry and uncertain maybe, but not surprised. It told Irvine everything he needed to know. She'd been thinking about it since she'd left the bar.

He stepped inside without being asked, and kicked the door shut behind him.

"Irvine, what-"

"Don't say anything," he said.

He backed her up against the wall beside the door, his hands on her waist and leaned in slowly. He'd give her this chance to hit him with a meteor spell or slap him or otherwise shut him down.

She didn't.

Irvine's mouth found hers, and he tasted alcohol on her lips. Evidently, after she'd left the bar, she'd continued to drink. Alone. That fact hurt his heart a little because he knew he was probably the reason. He pulled her a little closer and cupped her face between his hands, kissing her a little deeper. She responded, though hesitantly, but it _was_a response. She kissed him back. She didn't fight it.

Suddenly, she shoved him away and turned her back on him, heading for the kitchen. She picked up a bottle of Mimmet from the counter and took a swallow directly from the bottle. That was a very un-Quistis like thing to do in Irvine's book. She let out a choked sob, took another swallow and then buried her face in her hands.

"You don't care who you hurt, do you?" Quistis asked bitterly. "Me, Selphie, Instructor Dai. What's the difference, right?"

"That's not true," Irvine said. "I don't want to hurt anyone."

He meant that. He didn't want to hurt anyone, and though he knew his motives were selfish, hurt was not an emotion he wanted to be the cause of. He was well aware of what he was doing, and he was aware that no matter what, someone was going to get hurt. Most certainly Selphie. That didn't mean he wanted to be the cause of it.

The thing was, he could actually see some kind of future with Quistis. Something he couldn't see with Selphie. Something stable, and comfortable and something real. He could picture it in his head, clear as day. They'd get married. Build a small ranch on the outskirts of Balamb with chocobos and horses and a vegetable garden. It would be perfect.

"I think I'm falling for you," he admitted.

Quistis let out a bitter laugh that was completely devoid of humor.

"Does that work on all the girls?" she asked. "They just fall right into your arms, don't they?"

"It's not like that," Irvine said. "The other girls, they know what they are."

"Oh, that's really nice, Irvine," Quistis said as she lifted the bottle to her lips again. "So, you're not above using someone to get what you want."

"It's not _using_them if they know exactly where they stand," he countered.

"I guess I'm supposed to feel special, then," Quistis said. "Because you've _fallen_for me? You've fallen for me, and you're dating my best friend, whom you don't love anymore but don't have the balls to break up with? Meanwhile, you're sleeping with your secretary, Instructor Dai, and whoever the hell else you've got waiting in the wings? Get real, Irvine. I'm not stupid."

How to convince her what he said was true?

"I'm breaking up with her this weekend," Irvine said. "We're going out of town, and I'm going to tell her the truth."

Clearly, this was not what Quistis wanted to hear. He wasn't really sure what she wanted to hear, but this definitely wasn't it.

"Why are you telling me this?" she cried.

"Because we're friends," he said. "And because I want you to know that I'm serious."

"Boy, you sure know how to woo a girl," Quistis said. "You know what, Irvine? I want you to leave now, and I want you to forget we ever had this conversation, or any other conversation, ever."

"Quistis-"

"Get out, or I swear to Hyne, I'll tell Selphie."

"You wouldn't do that," Irvine said. "Even though you're innocent of any wrongdoing here, it won't matter to her, and you know it."

"She deserves to know what kind of bastard she's dating! Seriously, Irvine, how could you come here like this and tell me the one thing I've _always_ wanted to hear someone say? We were supposed to be friends, and you _knew_that about me! How could you do that to me? Or to her? How?" Quisits bawled. "She might hate me for a while, but she'll hate you a hell of a lot more."

"Quistis-"

"GET OUT!"

Quistis' face was a picture of rage, but behind her eyes was a huge, gaping chasm of sorrow. Irvine desperately wished he could make that sorrow go away, knowing full well he was the cause of it.

"Just hear me out, okay?" he pleaded. "Just give me a chance to explain myself, and then I'll leave."

Quistis made an irritated gesture and picked up the bottle again. Irvine realized that she was well on her way to sloppy drunk, and that could either work in his favor or it could make things worse. He'd have to take the chance, he supposed.

"Angering Selphie's like playing Russian Roulette with a round in every chamber," he said. "No matter where it lands, you lose."

"You're not telling me anything I don't know," Quistis began, but Irvine cut her off.

"My point is, I've wanted to end things with her for a long, long time. For me, we've been done for months. Believe me, I know it's not going to end well and the longer I wait, the worse it's going to be. I'm shit scared of what she's going to do to me, to be honest, and you would be too, if you were in my shoes," he said. "I know I'm selfish and depraved, and I know you don't think you can trust me, and you're probably right. I'd be lying if I tried to tell you otherwise."

Irvine took the bottle from Quistis' hands and set it aside. She made a face but let him take it, as if she knew she didn't need any more.

"But I also wanted to tell you that I'm not the monster you think I am. I'm lonely, just like you are," he said. "I'm supposed to be in this fairy-tale perfect relationship, but I feel so _alone_, all the time, and I can't stand it. I've tried to make it work with her, and I promise you, I never cheated on her until she started ignoring me. I'm just not the sort of guy who can handle being left alone all the time. I need a woman in my life, and right now, that woman isn't Selphie and I don't think it ever will be."

Quistis looked away. Whether she believed him or not, he felt like he had to make things right.

"I never meant to compromise our friendship," he said, "but I'm not sorry I told you how I feel. You can stand there and think I'm full of shit, and that's okay. I kind of deserve that, but don't you dare try and lie to me or pretend that you don't have feelings for me, too."

"My feelings are besides the point, Irvine," Quistis said. "You have a _girlfriend_, who in spite of what an ass you plainly are, is still madly in love with you!"

Irvine noticed that Quistis didn't deny that she felt something for him, and that was a start.

"She stopped being my girlfriend the minute Squall gave her the Student Center," Irvine said. "We just never officially ended it."

"What do you want from me, Irvine? To sleep with you? To ignore the fact that you're still _officially _with my best friend? To go against everything I believe in to be with you?" Quistis said. "Well, it's not going to happen."

"But you do feel something."

"Yes!" she cried frustrated. "Hyne help me, yes, I have feelings for you. But if you think for one second I'm going to give in to it, then you're wrong! You can't ask me to do this to Selphie."

"I'm not asking you to _do _anything. I just wanted you to know how I felt."

The stoic blonde's face crumpled and she sagged against the countertop. Irvine was torn between putting his arms around her and leaving her there. His gentlemanly side won out. He pulled her into his arms and pressed her head into his shoulder, letting her sob into his shirt. He held her like that for a long time, stroking her hair and cursing himself for starting this in the first place. Why couldn't he have just sucked it up and kept his mouth shut? Why couldn't he ever seem to do right by the women in his life?

When she'd gotten herself back under control, Quistis pulled away and turned her eyes to the floor. To Irvine, this was unacceptable. He hooked a finger under her chin and tilted her face up to his so that he could look her in the eye.

"You'd be worth whatever hell Selphie could bring down on me, Quistis."

"Maybe you're not worth the hell she'd bring down on_ me_."

"Ouch," Irvine said, covering his chest with his hand. "Straight through the heart."

He leaned in, feeling emboldened by the fact that she hadn't thrown him out or hit him yet. There had to be some reason she hadn't done either, and he sensed that a part of her truly wanted this to happen. Even if it meant betraying her friend. Irvine knew his actions could be perceived as being manipulative, that it might appear that he was taking advantage of Quistis' desperate need to be loved, but that wasn't it. He, too, didn't want to feel so alone anymore.

This time when his lips met hers, she responded. Hesitant at first, then bolder as her arms went around his neck and she pressed herself against him. Just like that, whatever part of herself she'd been fighting lost the battle. Her hands went to the hem of his shirt and ruthlessly yanked it over his head and she tossed it aside. Irvine knew right then that this was happening. Clothing was shed in record time and wound up in various spots around the kitchen. His pants landed on the table. Her bra in front of the fridge.

Irvine had been right about one thing, seeing Quistis this undone proved every bit as incredible as it had been in his imagination. Her lipstick was smeared, her hair out of place and she drunk and turned on enough to not care that she was getting naked with her best friends man. It was a beautiful thing to see her let go of her own tightly controlled and oh-so proper demeanor.

As Irvine made love to Quistis Trepe in the kitchen of her apartment, he never even once thought of Selphie.

* * *

**IV**

* * *

I entered Selphie's office, pictures tucked under my arm and braced myself for her latest bout of verbal diarrhea. Fortunately for me, she was on the phone and I was spared the thousand word a minute lecture I was expecting. I tossed the pictures on the desk, took a seat and sorted through the unnecessary, yet somehow magically full, inbox Selphie had placed on my desk. There were yearbook pamphlets, a printout from the web about popular yearbook layouts, an extensive list of fundraising ideas and phone numbers for possible sponsors and vendors.

Then there were about six random lists of things that seemingly had no connection to anything else. One of them included party streamers, a bouncy-castle and a _bazooka_. Another listed a blender, hot dogs and an organ grinder monkey. Silently, I shook my head and placed it back in the inbox. I didn't want to think too hard about what thought process had lead her to combine any of those things on the same list. Or what she might be planning to do with them.

She got off the phone far too soon and greeted me with her usual hyper-excited barrage of words. In truth, I caught maybe one out of every five words she said. I just sat there and nodded every minute or so.

"Anyway, you'll never guess who I just got off the phone with," she gushed.

"It sounded like you were making hotel reservations for the big hump-fest this weekend."

"Don't be crude!"

"That's what you'll be doing, right?" I asked. "Humping?"

Secretly, I was jealous. Not of either of them, just jealous of the idea of spending a weekend alone with a girl who wasn't afraid of me. I doubted that it would happen any time soon, if ever.

"Pig," Selphie pouted. "But, anyway, yes. For my weekend away with Irvy. But, I was talking about before that. You'll never guess what I got my hands on!"

"Please, Hyne, let it be a lifetime supply of tranquilizers," I muttered.

Selphie pointedly ignored me and continued.

"Noah Ackerly, the guy that runs the pub by the docks in Balamb called," she said. "And guess what he said?"

"To stop calling him or he was going to file a restraining order?"

Selphie narrowed her eyes at me. I took that as a hint to stop with the snide comments or else I would find out how truly, insanely terrifying this chick could be.

"He's ordered new pool tables for the pub and would be willing to donate the old one! All we have to do is pay to move it! Isn't that exciting?"

That was fairly generous of him, considering he could have decided that since we were a for-profit para-military group with big fat purses, we could probably have afforded to buy it from him. I wondered about what kind of shape it was in if he was just giving it away.

"It's in pretty good condition," Selphie said, answering my question. "The coin operated ball thingy doesn't work anymore, but he said the felt's in good shape and that if we could get someone to move it for us, it was ours. I'm going to go look at it tomorrow."

"Well, that's great, Selphie," I said honestly.

"Yeah, and the best part is he can't get rid of it until the new ones come in, so we have plenty of time to get the activities room situated and ready, and we'll have it before term starts. Isn't that exciting?"

I nodded.

"I thought so too," she said. "Oh, before I forget, I'm going to need to be gone from the office from four to six every day, so I'll need you to hold down the fort until further notice."

"That thing with Squall the other day?"

"Yep! I can't tell you what it is yet, so don't ask, but believe me, I wouldn't do it unless it was something really, really important," she gushed. "Anyway, maybe you could use this time to make some phone calls or start brainstorming ideas for fundraisers and stuff. I know I distract you, so giving you a few hours to handle it on your own might be really good."

"You _know _you distract me?" I asked. "Then why do you do it?"

She ignored my comment and grinned as her eyes fell on the packet of photos I'd brought from the lab. I don't know why I hadn't stopped my room on my way here. I reluctantly handed them over and she gave an excited gasp as she pulled them out of the envelope. One by one, she looked at them, grinning like a nutcase.

"These are so good, Seifer!" she said. "I'm so proud of you!"

I gave her a weak smile and then leaned back in my chair.

"Have you decided which ones you're going to turn in?"

"I just finished developing them," I told her. "I haven't had a chance to look through them again."

"I'll help you!"

I weighed my sanity against her annoying tendency to make me do things I didn't want to do. This wasn't worth the fight, so I gave in. She laid them all out, one by one until Selphie's face was everywhere. It was like my worst nightmare, and it, oddly, made me feel extremely paranoid. Everywhere I looked, she was_ looking_ at me.

"How come there are doubles of some of these?" she asked.

"I figured you'd want copies."

Selphie let out a girlish squeal and threw her arms around me. I have to say this, for someone so small, she was really freaking strong. She nearly crushed my ribcage.

"Selphie, get off!" I growled.

"That's just so sweet, Seifer! I love them! Thank you, thankyouthankyou!"

"Shut up or I'm taking them back."

She let me go, but bounced away, still very, very happy to have photos of herself in her possession. I rolled my eyes, thinking that we needed to lay down some ground rules. Clearly, Selphie didn't know the meaning of boundaries.

She grinned at me and held the portraits to her chest but didn't say another word. Carefully, she tucked them away and turned her focus to the plethora of Selphies scattered throughout the room.

"How many do you have to turn in?"

"At least five."

"Well, that's going to be tough. These are so...beautiful. We need a second opinion."

"You are my second opinion."

"No, we need someone who hasn't seen them before," she said, thinking. "Oh, I know!"

She went to the door, opened it and hung her head into the hallway.

"Rajin!" she bellowed. "Rajin, come in here for a minute."

Rajin appeared in the doorway, grinning his big dumb animal grin at us. Boy, did she have him wrapped around her little finger.

"What's up, you know?" he said. "Hey Seifer. I was just fixing the sink in the other room, you know?"

I take that back. Selphie had somehow replaced my best friend with a very convincing and very obedient cybernetic robot. There was no other explanation.

"We need your opinion, Rajin," Selphie said, showing him the vast array of Selphies.

I sat down behind my desk and pulled out my course manual on the Role of the Instructor and silently began to read. I'd been left out of this decision the second Selphie got her hands on it. I figured, I might as well use my time wisely. There really was no point in fighting it.

* * *

**V**

* * *

Selphie helped Seifer pick seven of the very best shots, with Rajin's help. The portraits had turned out even better than she'd imagined, and she couldn't help but be impressed by Seifer's talent. He had a sharp eye for a beautiful shot, and he'd managed to make her look amazing in every one of them. Even better that she had copies.

She happened to glance at her watch and realized that she was going to be late if she didn't get a move on. Squall would expect her at the hangar in a half an hour and she still had to change. She excused herself, grabbed her copies of the photos, and hurried up to her room. In the corridor leading to the staff apartments, she nearly collided with someone as she rounded the corner.

"Irvine!" she cried. "What are you doing up here?"

"Looking for you," he said smoothly.

"Good timing, though I don't have but a minute to talk," she said. "Squall needs my help with something, but what's up?"

"Just missed you, I guess."

Selphie thought he looked sad, and she felt guilty about not spending much time with him lately.

"Well, I booked the hotel," she said as she slipped her cardkey into the lock of her door, "so we'll have plenty of time to catch up this weekend. I can't wait, can you? It'll be so nice to get away."

"Yeah," he said. "It'll be great."

He followed her into the apartment and she went directly to her bedroom, changed into her uniform and checked her hair. When she returned to the living room, she found Irvine looking at the pictures she'd dropped on the table in her haste. Silently, he looked through them, and Selphie tried to gauge his reaction. She couldn't tell if he liked them or not.

"Aren't they great?" she asked. "I was going to put one in a frame and surprise you with it, but, well-"

"Who took them?"

"Seifer. For his photography class."

Selphie didn't see the bitterness or suspicion in his eyes as she grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, but it was there. For an instant, his eyes flashed with jealousy so powerful that Selphie wouldn't have recognized him if she'd looked into his face at that moment. When she turned around, he smiled at her and laid the pictures back on the table.

"They're pretty good," he said.

"It was so much fun," she said. "Like a real photo shoot."

Irvine leaned in and gave her a lingering kiss on the forehead.

"So what's this thing Squall's got you doing?"

"I can't tell you yet," she said. "You'll probably figure it out this afternoon, but it's top secret till then."

He gave her another kiss on the forehead and grasped her hand. Selphie noticed, he was acting a bit strange, but she figured he was just stressed from work and he missed her. Well, she missed him too. She was definitely looking forward to their weekend alone. They'd lounge on the beach, play in the ocean, make love for hours. It was just what they both needed.

"I've got to go," she told him reluctantly. "See you at dinner?"

* * *

**VI  
**

* * *

After Selphie left, I headed to the quad with Rajin. I got a coffee and wandered over to the railing where I had a good view of the grounds. Rajin was chatty, and it was evident he'd spent way too much time with Selphie in recent years. I finally had to ask.

"Why do you hang out with Selphie so much?"

"She's cool, ya know?" he said. "After the whole Ultimecia thing? She didn't judge us or act like we did nothing wrong. It was just, like, you know, cool."

I didn't know how her being non judgmental after the whole mess had lead to them being friends, but I didn't bother to ask. Rajin had a vocabulary of about 50 words and twenty five of them were 'like' and 'ya know?' Explaining the whole thing would be far too difficult, and I wasn't in the mood to try and decipher the words in between.

"Besides, she's fun to be around, ya know?" he said. "If I have a bad day, I can talk to her about it. 'Cause, ya know, like, if I tried to talk to Fujin, she'd just kick me, and man, it hurts when she does that."

Fujin did have the ability to injure even the toughest man with her brutal kick to the shin. I used to suspect her foot was made of solid iron and had learned a long time ago to avoid doing or saying things around her that would result in her feeling the need to kick me. Rajin, sadly, had never quite mastered the art of keeping it to himself.

"You know that's just Fujin's way of showing her love," I said, taking a sip of coffee.

Rajin guffawed at that. At least he was easily amused.

Some activity at the farthest edge of the grounds caught my attention. The hangar doors had opened and something was slowly being towed out. Something big. I watched, curious about what was going on. It appeared to be an airship of some sort, vaguely like the Ragnaraok in design, but smaller and much more sleek. Since when did Garden have airships, besides the Ragnarok, which was technically only on loan from Esthar? Although, it seemed President Loire had no real interest in getting that monstrosity back, but to my knowledge, it wasn't really Garden property.

"It's an airship, ya know?" Rajin said, stating the obvious.

"When did they get that?"

"I don't know. First time I've seen it, ya know?" Rajin said. "It's cool looking, though. I wonder if they're going to let Selphie fly it."

It dawned on me then that my madcap jailer was something of a pilot. On her calendar were scheduled dates for Ragnarok flights. It seemed she had to log so many hours a month to stay current, but it never even crossed my mind because she'd never mentioned it. Somehow, I knew what this new project Squall had given her was. She was going to fly the new airship.

My suspicions were confirmed when she came bounding out of the hangar dressed in an olive green flight suit, carrying a helmet of some type in her hands. Squall followed her out, casually taking his time as he watched her shoot up the ladder and hoist herself into the cockpit. If his posture was any indication, Squall was amused by this, rather than alarmed, as he should be.

I found it extremely disturbing how people seemed to think Selphie was the greatest. It was even more disturbing to know that they trusted her with expensive machinery like this. I'd only _heard_ that she was a very good pilot. My only experience with her flying ability was the time she rammed the Lunatic Pandora with the Ragnarok, so I may have been biased, but all I could imagine was mayhem and destruction. Not to mention, the girl _really_ enjoyed blowing things up. I could only pray that Squall was smart enough to avoid allowing her to fly something that carried _any_ type of payload. Like, _ever_, ya know?

Even from here, we could hear the engines as she started the craft. A second later, the dome over the cockpit was closed and the ladder wheeled away. Squall saluted her from the ground and seemed to speak into some kind of hand held communication device.

The craft began to taxi down the small runway adjacent to the hangar, and an instant later, she hit the throttle and the thing was airborne. My jaw dropped as it hurtled up into the sky at a breakneck angle and headed toward the mountains. The airship was fast. Faster than any I'd ever seen.

"That's badass, ya know?" Rajin said, excited.

He seemed almost giddy over it, and I realized that Selphie really had rubbed off on him. To a disturbing degree.

Less than a minute later, Selphie Tilmitt buzzed Garden, flying insanely low as she passed overhead. I could practically hear her shout of "Booyaka" from where I stood. She did a bank turn, came back and buzzed Garden again, this time rolling the craft over 360 degrees as she passed by. I swear, the wing almost brushed the glass ceiling of Squall's office, she was so close. It was both terrifying and fascinating.

Three things truck me as I watched Selphie hurtle through the sky, performing a rather impressive a series of barrel rolls.

One: I knew, one hundred percent, Selphie Tilmitt was absolutely _insane_. No one could be in their right mind and fly that way.

Two: It was the _coolest _fucking thing I'd seen since I'd arrived at Garden. Even if Selphie was totally nuts, I had to give her props for her skill and her guts in this case. If anything, Selphie was poised to revolutionize the art of flying. No one on Hyne's green earth flew like that.

And three: What the hell did Garden need a craft like that for? It was far too expensive and dangerous to consider it a contingency plan. The Ragnarok was understandable. It was capable of carrying several SeeD teams and a lot of equipment if necessary. It was more a transport craft than an attack craft, though if memory served, it did have attack capabilities. This thing held one, maybe two passengers and was designed for one thing, and one thing only:

To destroy.

It didn't bode well. Some time in the very near future, things were going to get ugly.

And, I was betting, when it did, they were going to let Selphie blow stuff up.

* * *

Wench Notes:

I'm betting we're going to get flamed for what we did with Quistis and Irvine. I tried really hard to not make him look like a total bastard, though he's most certainly following his own agenda, and I hope I succeeded. Sara pointed out that it seems like Quistis gave in too quickly, but in Quists' defense, she was drunk. People don't always make the best choices when they're drunk. Especially when they're lonely and someone's telling them what they always wanted to hear.

From this chapter on, the focus shifts away from Seifer/Selphie just a bit, since it would get boring if every passage was about Seifer hating Selphie and Selphie hating Seifer. Believe me, everything so far serves a purpose, including the Irvine/Quistis relationship. Maybe not in ways that you might think.

Also, all told, there are a LOT more chapters coming. Far more than I expected when I started this project. Maybe twenty five in total? Possibly more if we have to break some of them up for length purposes. Having PodSara's input turned this story into something so much bigger than just a little humorous piece about the Selphie/Seifer relationship. It started with the introduction of the new airships and built from there. I won't say what's coming, but just as Seifer says, Selphie gets to blow stuff up.

And on the Selphie/Seifer front, Sara wrote this BRILLIANT scene that just completely blew me away in it's hilarity, honesty and it's _blatant _disrespect. And I mean that in the best way possible. I can't wait till we get there. I love it, and I'm pretty sure Selfer fans are going to love it, too.

PodSara: Well, it is pretty genius. I quite enjoy writing Seifer, especially in his more, shall we say, _frustrated _moments. Actually, I just enjoy writhing him, period.

So yes, It does appear that we have a hefty 25 chapters or so. That's quite a bit, given the length of most of them. I can quite honestly say, this probably my favorite story, and I'm glad to be a part of it. Don't quite know how it got to be this big a story, but I'm proud of what we've done. I hope you guys are enjoying it too.

WENCH UPDATE 2011:

I'm leaving these original author's notes because a lot of them explain our thought process at the time. Had they not been there, I don't know if I'd be able to recall how we arrived at some of these plot decisions. It's always interesting for me to read why an author chose to have a certain character do a certain thing, or even defend it if it seems a little out of character.

I still very much love this story, and I plan to finish posting it, chapter by chapter when I get time. Eventually, it will be complete. I hope.

I've also revisited something that I wrote in the midst of writhing this to switch up the scenery a bit. It's different, it has nothing to do with this, but it's not bad. It's an angsty Squinoa (shocker!) that people will either love or hate. Take a look. It's called "The Path of the Feather."

Anyway, happy reading, and if you're out there, review!


	8. Sins of Omission

CHAPTER EIGHT  
Sins of Omission

* * *

**I  
**

* * *

Quistis woke the next morning and a glance at the clock told her that she was late for work. In a panic, she flung back the blankets and pulled on her uniform. Her head was throbbing and she felt nauseous from the amount of Mimmet she'd consumed the night before. She was also sore in places she hadn't been sore in a very, very long time. The memory of what she'd done hit her and she sat down on the bed and put her aching head in her hands.

It was her own fault. She'd allowed Irvine to stay and she'd bought his lines about being lonely. If she hadn't been so very drunk, and so very, very lonely herself, this never would have happened. She hated herself for it, and she hated Irvine for knowing exactly how to play on her emotions. Just when she thought he was a decent guy, he'd done _this_.

She slipped on a pair of heels and spared a glance in the mirror above the dresser. She looked terrible, but there was no fixing that. All she could do was run a brush through her untidy hair and head up to her office. No doubt, Squall was wondering where she was. Maybe, just maybe, he'd had a meeting and didn't know she was late. She could only pray he didn't know, since he was a stickler for punctuality. Not that Quistis had ever been late before, but she didn't want the commander to doubt her commitment to her job, either.

She wasn't so lucky. When she opened her office door, Squall was sitting behind her desk eying a huge bouquet of red roses. Without a word, he fingered the card and Quistis suddenly wondered what Irvine had done. Had he been stupid enough to sign the damned card, and now Squall knew of her indiscretion? That was the very last thing she wanted or needed and she prayed that Irvine had been smart enough to keep his name out of this very public display of whatever this was.

"Sorry I'm late," she breathed as she closed the door behind her. "I guess I didn't set my alarm."

"Have a good time last night? Squall asked.

Quistis couldn't read his tone, nor could she decide if there was a reprimand in there somewhere. Knowing Squall, there most certainly was.

"It was okay," she said without enthusiasm.

"Somebody apparently thought it was special enough to send these," Squall said, fingering a large bloom. "I didn't know you were seeing anyone."

"I'm not, really," she said.

"These are expensive," Squall pointed out. "A guy doesn't buy roses like these unless he's trying to impress you. Or, he's in the dog house."

Squall looked amused by the whole thing. He raised an eyebrow at her and glanced at the card again as if trying to decide if this was the message of a man who'd angered Quistis and was now trying to repent via expensive floral arrangements.

Squall Leonhart, fishing for details? Quistis found that absurd, yet curious. It wasn't his style to want to know or even care what Quistis or anyone else did in their down time, so long as it didn't reflect badly on Garden. And of all the times for him to suddenly care, it was the one time she truly couldn't confirm or deny.

The roses were enough of a confirmation. They said everything there was to say. It was quite obvious Quistis had caught someone's attention. Silently, she cursed Irvine for doing this. Then she cursed herself for letting it happen.

Quistis' lack of response made Squall smile.

"I get it," he said. "I've had to set aside a budget just to make up for imagined slights. I'm on a first name basis with the florist in Balamb. I know all about make-up gifts. Don't be too hard on the guy, these don't come cheap."

Quistis felt like she was going to throw up. It was a combination of nerves, Squall's scrutiny and her hangover. All of them were conspiring against her. She wondered, briefly, if Squall would take the hint and leave if she vomited on his shoes.

"Okay," he finally said, getting up. "I understand if you don't want to talk to me about it, but in the future, I'd appreciate it if you could show up on time, in proper dress. It doesn't look so good when the assistant commander shows up smelling like a distillery and looking like she spent the night dancing on the bar at the FH pub."

"What?" Quistis asked and glanced down at herself. She could see nothing wrong with her uniform. It was perfectly pressed, she was neatly tucked, and she'd even taken the time to pull on her stockings. She'd give him the distillery comment, being that it was probably true, but she couldn't find a single flaw with her appearance.

"The hair," he said.

In her haste, she'd failed to pin it up into her usual french knot. It hung loose, down her back. That in itself was a rarity. Even in her off time, she seldom wore it loose like this. And here, she thought she'd done a pretty good job covering it up, given the short period of time she'd had to dress herself this morning.

"Personally, I don't care what you do with your hair, Quistis," he said. "Unfortunately, code says it has to be off your collar. Being that we're setting an example for the students, we expect you to follow the guidelines."

Quistis almost burst into tears at that moment. What would he do or say if he knew? It wasn't against Garden policy to have an affair with a co-worker, however it was against policy to bring any drama associated with it into the workplace. Once Selphie found out, and Quistis knew it was just a matter of time before she did, things would get very, very ugly and very complicated.

"Yes sir," she managed. "I apologize. It won't happen again."

"And Quistis?" he said.

"Sir?"

"Relax," he said simply. "Things have a way of working themselves out."

He left her on that very un-Squall-like note and as soon as he was gone, Quistis flopped into her chair and burst into tears.

What had she done?

* * *

**II**

* * *

Selphie was, as usual, in her office when my classes were over for the day. Typically, she was a bundle of unharnessed energy, but today, she was even more exuberant and overbearing than before. She was regaling Rajin and Fujin with her tale of the mystery aircraft, and for the first time, I found myself actually paying attention to what she was saying. After all, it had impressed even me to watch her fly.

"It was so amazing!" she said as I walked in. "I've never flown anything so fast in my life. And I've never, ever been able to get the Ragnarok to do more than barrel roll at a time. Laguna says it's because it wasn't designed for that, and more than one would probably stall it out, but the Shiva? I can flip it, roll it, bank turn, anything, and it's like driving a car, but way faster and way funner!"

"Funner's not a word," I pointed out.

"It is so," she said. "Anyway, the plan is for me to learn how to fly it, learn what it can do and then train others to do it."

"BOMBS?" Fujin asked.

"Oh, yeah," Selphie said, sounding positively giddy at the prospect. "Not yet, but soon. I can't wait. I love blowing stuff up."

"No shit," I muttered under my breath.

"What was that?" Selphie asked, narrowing her eyes.

"That's neat," I said.

"Neat? It's awesome, ya know?" Rajin said. "Yo, I wonder if Squall would let me learn to fly one of those thingies, ya know? Like, I've always wanted to learn how to fly."

"You can apply," Selphie said encouragingly. "Quistis has the applications, but they're only going to chose six students, so it's going to be tough to get in."

I settled down at my desk and looked at Selphie.

"_One _of those thingies?" I asked. "How many does Garden have?"

"Three," Selphie said. "That I know of. Laguna, Squall and Zell designed them, and Esthar built them. Top of the line everything. I think eventually, Squall plans to have a flight academy attached to the school, but for now, this is a test project to see what we can do with it."

A flight academy? Now that was an interesting thought. Esthar was the only place in the world that had the money, brains and technology to host a flight academy, and competition to get in was fierce from what I'd heard. That said, I wasn't aware that Esthar had these kinds of airships that were designed with the purpose of warfare in mind. If Esthar built them, then that meant Esthar had them. If I hadn't known of the mutual friendship between President Loire and Squall, I might have been very concerned about Esthar's priorities. Though Loire was some absurd paradox of pure genius and village idiot, it was widely known that Loire was firm in his loyalties. He was loyal to his country, and his people, friends and allies were concrete in their loyalty to him. I'd never understood why people followed him, but, I guess there was a lot to be said for charisma and a bowling shirt.

"Chicken-Wuss had a hand in the project?" I laughed. "Hyne help you, Selphie. What does it run on, hot dogs?"

"No," she said, throwing a wad of paper at me. Then, she explained.

Apparently, Squall came up with the idea following the Ultimecia incident and had drawn up designs and listed all the specifications he'd wanted. In the beginning, Squall's doodles had just been a way to occupy his mind during lengthy meetings with the World Council, and it wasn't something that he'd actually planned on seeing come to fruition. Zell had seen the drawings on Squall's desk and mused that he'd love the chance to build an engine with the horsepower needed to make it a reality. Money to build such a thing was in short supply, as was the build and test space, so Squall contacted Laguna hoping he might back the project. Not only was Laguna board, he'd engineered Squall's original plans. So, with Laguna as engineer and financier, Zell as the mechanic and Squall as the designer, they created the first prototype in a warehouse out in the Estharian desert.

The prototype tested well, was tweaked a bit, and then retested until they couldn't find flaw in it's design. Following that, Laguna built six of them. Three went to Garden, the remaining three stayed in Esthar. Until now, their existence had been kept top secret.

"These craft are unprecedented, Seifer," Selphie said. "There's nothing else even remotely like them in the world right now."

"I just can't imagine something built by Loire or Dincht being labeled as _unprecedented_," I said. "I'm thinking more along the lines of a flying deathtrap, to tell you the truth."

"Laguna's a genius," Selphe promised. "The Ragnarok was his design, you know. And Zell's a really good mechanic. Give him a toothpick, a paper clip and some duct tape and he can fix anything."

"Please tell me that thing you're flying is not put together with duct tape," I said. "I have mad respect for the stuff, since it's helped me out a time or two, but seriously, Selphie, I'd rather not have to witness your fiery death from above if something happens."

Oh, crap. I'd just admitted that her untimely end would not make my year.

I'm almost sad to say, it wouldn't.

* * *

**III**

* * *

"I'm not even going to ask how much this project cost," Quistis said, surveying the three airships in the hangar. "And I can't believe you didn't think to share it with me, being that I'll be the one handling the requests for parts, fuel and permission for Selphie to bomb the crap out of the Centra wasteland."

Squall sighed and wondered what was going on with his friend. She'd been strange all day, and though he tried to chalk it up to a hangover and possibly unwanted advances from a male companion, he sensed there was more to it than that. He just couldn't put his finger on that elusive emotion that flickered behind her eyes when she thought he wasn't looking.

"And I have to find out from a cadet that you decided to let Selphie test it out yesterday?" Quistis said. "Really? A cadet? What, you didn't think to tell your assistant commander about this before hand?"

"I wanted you to be there yesterday, but you didn't answer my page," Squall said in his defense.

It was true. He'd gone looking for her, but she was nowhere to be found. He'd even knocked on her door, but she hadn't answered.

"How the hell did you miss it?" Squall mused. "Selphie buzzed Garden, you know. I don't mean she did a fly over, I mean she was right on top of the building. Twice. What were you doing that kept you from noticing the noise or the fact that most of the staff and cadets were out on the lawn cheering her on?"

He'd meant to tease her, but it didn't strike her that way. Instead, her face changed from annoyance to something that looked like guilt and defeat.

"I was passed out in my room," Quistis said bitterly. "Shitfced drunk, if you must know, Squall."

That wasn't like Quistis at all. He wondered what had happened to cause her to get drunk in the middle of the afternoon. And that explanation didn't answer why there were eighteen very expensive Dollet Monarchy roses on her desk, or the accompanying card that read simply, "Good morning, beautiful." If there was someone in her life, no one knew about it, and if there was, she didn't seem at all happy about it.

"Quistis, if this guy isn't treating you right-"

"There's no guy, Squall," Quistis asserted. "I suggest you drop it."

"If someone's giving you trouble, I can take care of it."

"Squall, drop it. Now."

Her commanding tone took Squall by surprise. She hadn't used that tone with him in a very, very long time. Probably not since he was her student and he and Seifer had gotten into an unnecessary brawl in the training center.

"Fine, but if you need some help, you know where I am," he said, leaving it at that.

"So, why do we have three apparently very powerful aircraft with extensive bombing capabilities again? I don't think you explained that."

"Sadly, Quistis, if I'm right about a hunch I have, they're going to prove useful," he admitted. "My only hope is that we can get pilots trained in time."

Quistis expression changed back to something more familiar. Now business again, she eyed him and then the craft again.

"Deling?" she asked.

"I can't put my finger on it, Quistis, but I know he's up to something, and it isn't good."

"I'm with you on that," Quistis said, "but what could he possibly want?"

"That's the part I haven't figured out yet. His army's growing but the Galbadian military budget hasn't changed. My source tells me he's amassing a stockpile of weapons and vehicles out at the missile base and that every day, he sends a few of his best Sergeants out to D-district."

"You think he's training prisoners?" Quistis asked, surprised.

"He tried to recruit Seifer while he was still in their custody," Squall admitted. "Thank Hyne Seifer had the common sense to say no."

"I'm surprised Seifer turned him down," Quistis said. "He would have been a free man."

"Seifer didn't trust him. He said he wanted no part in whatever Deling was up to," Squall said. "I know you don't trust Seifer, but I think you should cut him a little slack, being that for once in his life, he didn't chose the path of glory. To know that he'd rather stay locked up for the rest of his life than align himself with someone who could possibly put him back in a leadership role should tell you where Seifer stands."

"I don't know if I can do that," Quistis said. "But I'll try. If your hunch is right, Seifer could be a great asset."

"My thoughts exactly."

Quistis sighed and turned toward the craft. Her posture was once again defeated and Squall could only surmise that it was the previous day's alcohol binge at the root of it. He was no stranger to the day-after effects of too much alcohol. It was the reason he flat-out refused to drink with Irvine anymore. The recovery time was approximately triple the amount of pleasurable time, and to Squall, it wasn't worth it. Now, he just stuck to a couple of drinks to be social, and that was it.

"You're really going to let Selphie test out it's bombing capabilities? Do you really think we should encourage her?"

Squall chuckled at the hint of fear in Quistis' voice. He was well aware that the petite demolition expert was a bit of a loose cannon when it came to explosives. Her joy at making things blow up was unparalleled. Combine that with her other passion, flying, and it could potentially be the worst idea he'd ever had. That said, it could also be the very best idea he'd ever had. Give Selphie something she both loved and was good at, and there would be no deviation in her focus. When Selphie wanted something, she couldn't be derailed.

But, Squall had no idea what the real reason behind the question was, though he suspected there was some other concern Quistis wasn't voicing. Squall just wasn't sure what that was.

"No one better suited for the job," Squall said. "Unless you have a suggestion."

"Not really," Quistis admitted. "She's a good pilot."

"A_ great _pilot," Squall corrected. "Too bad you missed her maiden voyage yesterday. First time flying it, and it took her about thirty seconds to master the controls. Even Laguna's test pilot had to give it a few runs before he was able to show of it's capabilities."

"Just do me a favor and don't let her blow anything up for the time being, okay?" Quistis asked. "We don't want any...accidents to happen."

It dawned on Squall what Quistis was getting at. She was concerned about Irvine and his philandering ways. While it wasn't widely known, everyone in their group knew about it but Selphie. Eventually, Selphie would find out, and there would be hell to pay. Though Squall didn't think Selphie would go so far as to direct a missile at the cowboy, there was always a chance he underestimated the limits of Selphie's vengeful insanity. When it came down to it, Selphie Tilmitt was terrifying when she was angry. Add a betrayal on top of that, and there was no telling how she'd react.

On top of that, Squall had an inkling that Quistis knew something he didn't. There was nothing specific that made him realize this, but he was sure there was some reason behind Quistis' concern.

"Is there something you need to tell me?" he asked. "Something I need to be aware of?"

Quistis stiffened, telling Squall that Quistis did indeed know more than she was letting on.

"Quistis?"

She shrugged and turned around to face him again, her face pained.

"I'd appreciate it if you'd share, since I'm about to let her have her way with some very expensive and very dangerous weaponry," Squall said. "Especially if it's going to affect-"

"Irvine said he's breaking up with her," Quistis said. "This weekend."

Squall was saddened by the news but not so surprised. They'd all seen it coming, it was just a matter of time.

Their inevitable break up was something Squall was _so _not looking forward to.


	9. Pity Party of One

**Chapter Nine**

_Pity Party of One_

* * *

**I**

* * *

Irvine sat on a beach chair, his hat pulled low over a pair of aviator sunglasses, watching a couple of girls in bikinis strut their way across the sand. Beside him, Selphie was sprawled out, sipping on a frozen drink of unhealthy proportions, containing enough grain alcohol to slay a grown man. It was her third of the afternoon, and Irvine wasn't sure how Selphie was still conscious, let alone able to form complete sentences. Not that he was listening to her. His mind was on Quistis.

Beautiful, fucked up Quistis. She hadn't spoken to him all week and he was starting to worry that she was never going to speak to him again. She'd taken great pains to avoid him, opting to have lunch in her office instead of with the gang, citing too much work. Irvine knew that was a lie. She just felt guilty, and he supposed he couldn't blame her too much. He wished she would talk to him. He hadn't been lying when he told her he was crazy about her. He hadn't been able to get her off his mind. He'd even turned down Stosha's advances a couple of times because he was no longer interested in anyone but Quistis.

"I think everything I drink from now on should come with an umbrella in it, don't you Irvy?" Selphie asked.

"Sure," he agreed.

"Oh! I just had a great idea! We'll have a luau theme for my birthday party next week," she exclaimed. "Hawaiian shirts and grass skirts!"

"Coconut bras," Irvine muttered, imagining Quistis in said bra.

"Well, of course," Selphie agreed. "This is a fun idea! We can have it in the Quad, under the stars. And get a bunch of tiki torches and pineapples and those fake stuffed parrots!"

Irvine had forgotten that Selphie's birthday was coming up. Crap. Crap, crap, crap. He'd planned to have a nice weekend, then on the trip home, tell her the relationship wasn't working for him and that they should see other people. Now, he felt like he couldn't do that. If he did, he'd forever be known as the guy who ruined Selphie's birthday. Breaking her heart was bad enough, but ruining her birthday would only add fuel to the fire. Damn.

"Selph, I've got to make a phone call," Irvine said. "I forgot to tell Reno the supply order's due by midnight tonight."

"I thought we said no work talk."

"If the order's not in on time, we're screwed for the next two weeks," he said. "If I know Reno, it won't even occur to him to do it unless someone tells him to. Just a quick call, okay? I'll be right back."

Selphie heaved a sigh and flipped over onto her stomach, eyeing him over her huge movie star sunglasses.

"Fine, but bring me another one of these on your way back."

"Sure," he agreed and set off for the hotel room.

Once inside, he dialed Quistis' office number, knowing that though it was Saturday, the office was where she most likely was. It rang three times, and then he heard her voice on the other end of the line.

"Lt. Commander Trepe."

"Quistis. It's Irvine."

There was a long, silent pause.

"What do you want?" she asked frostily.

"Look, I know you're mad at me, and I know you don't want to talk to me, but hear me out, okay?" he said.

"I don't think we have anything to discuss," she said.

"Please just listen," Irvine said. "Can you give me that?"

"Fine, Kinneas. Two minutes, then I'm hanging up."

What to say? He'd called, and now he was at a loss for words. Her frigid attitude was not helping.

"Listen, I just wanted to say that I'm sorry," he said. "I feel like maybe you think I took advantage because you were drunk, and I didn't really mean to do that, or make you feel that way. Drunk or not, I'm crazy about you, okay?"

"And what about Selphie?"

"Like I said, we're done."

"Does she know that yet?"

"No, not yet," Irvine admitted. "I planned to tell her this weekend, but she reminded me her birthday's next week and I don't have the heart to ruin that for her. But I'm going to end it, because I want to be with you."

Quistis was silent on the other end of the line.

"Quistis?"

She continued to not say anything, and Irvine found that unnerving.

"I love you, Quistis," he said. "I know you don't believe me, but it's the truth."

"Irvine-"

"Don't over think it Quistis," he said. "You didn't do anything wrong. Just, don't shut me out, okay? Because I think you feel the same way. You're just scared to admit it."

Silence.

"You're making me feel like a jerk. Say something."

"What do you want me to say?" she asked, sounding defeated.

"I don't know. Tell me to piss off or that you'll never speak to me again or that you love me and think we have a real shot at being happy," he said. "Anything, just give me something."

He heard her sigh on the other end of the line.

"Break up with her. Then we'll talk."

* * *

**II**

* * *

As soon as Quistis hung up the phone, she got up, locked her office door and burst into tears. What was she doing? Why was she even considering being with Irvine? Selphie was her friend. No matter how Irvine spun it, it would be a betrayal, and not just in Selphie's opinion.

If Selphie wasn't in the picture, though, Quistis could see herself being happy with Irvine. Sure, he had a reputation for cheating, but she wasn't as blind to it as Selphie was. Half the reason Irvine got away with it was because Selphie was either so distracted that she couldn't see it, or she knew and pretended it wasn't happening. Quistis was wise to Irvine's ways, and she would have made it very clear that cheating wasn't acceptable.

But here she was, the other woman. She felt so terrible and conniving about allowing it to happen. She'd let him in. She'd been blind drunk. She should have known better, considering her fragile emotional state and desperate need for affection. She should have known what would happen if she let him in.

A part of her had wanted it to happen, though. She supposed she'd known the moment she'd opened the door. Drunk or not, she'd known.

Hyne, what was she going to do when Selphie found out? How could she play the sympathetic friend when she was lusting after Selphie's man? A man who was about to break her heart?

I'm a hateful, awful, bitch, Quistis thought.

Quistis wondered, did he mean it? When he'd said he loved her, did he mean it, or was that just his way of manipulating her? Was he that calculating?

Maybe with his flings, he was. But she was a friend. One of his best friends. For all his philandering ways, was he really cold enough to ruin a friendship all for a tumble in the sack? Quistis didn't think so. His secretary was one thing. Disposable. Replaceable. Quists' friendship was not. Their history together, the fact that they were the closest thing to family any one of them had should have meant that this was something he wouldn't take lightly. At least, she hoped not.

But then, he was cheating on Selphie.

Quistis wiped at her eyes and decided that she couldn't let this happen. She would just have to tell him when he got back that there wasn't a chance in hell that it would work and let that be the end of it. If Selphie somehow found out about their one indiscretion, she'd deal with it, but there was no way she was going to be the other woman. Not now, not ever.

* * *

**III **

* * *

I spent my Selphie-free weekend studying and playing cards with Fujin and Rajin as we used to when we were students. Back then, we'd had to smuggle in the booze and cigars and cram ourselves into my dorm room, which wasn't easy given that Rajin is flipping huge and took up half the room by himself. This time around, there was no smuggling involved, and we were free to spread out in my luxurious living room where there was leg room galore and no danger of getting crammed in the corner or caught in the crossfire if Rajin and Fujin got into it.

It was almost like old times, and it made me feel grateful all over again. Whatever crap I had to put up with as Selphie's slave was totally worth what I was getting in return. Of course, Selphie had a way of making me forget my gratitude when she was ordering me around and shoving bizarre ideas down my throat, but hang time with my best friends put things in perspective. We'd have to make this a ritual again, if only so that I never lost sight of what I was gaining.

Midterms were over, and that meant I was halfway to freedom. I felt like I did well on the exams, particularly the photography project involving Selphie. My photography instructor had loved the Selphie portraits and had used them as an example for the class when he lectured about using natural light to an advantage. Secretly, I was pleased, but I never let on that I cared one way or another.

I spent some time training, too. The system ranked me at level 87, which meant I'd soon be ready to face Squall again. That was something I looked forward to. I had a feeling, he was looking forward to it as much as I was. There was nothing more challenging than fighting an equal, and I was determined to be his equal again.

While in the training center, I found Alana Milovich, the cadet I'd met during the bake sale, training with a young man who looked to be about the same age as she was. I watched them for a while, impressed with their skill. Considering she was a girl, and a small one at that, Alana had some natural talent. I could tell she'd spent a lot of time training, and I wondered if it had to do with the fact that she was a female in a primarily male weapons class. From what I knew of her, I would have bet on it. I would bet that she spent twice the amount of time training as her male counterparts, and it showed. She had the confidence of someone who practiced endlessly and knew exactly what the weapon could do. Like an experienced master, she let the blade inform her movements, using it as an extension of herself. It was pretty cool to watch.

Her companion was pretty good, though he seemed to lack Alana's confidence. There was something about him that reminded me of a young Squall in both looks and the way his face was set and stoic. Maybe it was something in his eyes, but I could tell, just by looking at him, he was the quiet, serious type. I had a feeling, with a little coaching the kid might turn out to be a strong fighter.

I watched as they moved around one another, taking practice swings and parries. Of the two, Alana was the more aggressive. For every strike he made, she made three. He had the advantage of strength, but she had the advantage of speed, and that's what counted. Already, I could tell who the star was going to be, if this session was any indication.

When they took a break, Alana finally noticed me there. I almost felt like a creeper, standing there in the bushes until she smiled and cried, "Instructor!"

"Hey, kid."

"I didn't know you were there," she said. "So, what do you think?"

"Not bad," I said. "You've both got some work to do, but overall, not bad."

"You're going to be one of those tough love instructors, aren't you?" she asked with a grin. "The kind that skimp on praise so that when you actually give some, it means something?"

I hadn't really thought of it that way, but she was sort of right. Except that I wasn't conscious of doing it. I just shrugged and looked over at her friend who was standing a few paces back, staring at me with a guarded expression. I couldn't tell if he hated my guts or didn't care either way. Definitely a Squall type.

"This is Mikael Lasko," Alana said. "Mikael, this is Seifer Almasy. He's going to be our instructor."

"I might be your instructor," I corrected. "I have to pass the exams first."

"You will," she said confidently.

"Why are you guys here for the summer term?" I asked.

"Most of us go home to our families or back to whatever orphanage that sponsored us, but Mikael and I don't have either, and the summer exchange programs were full, so we stayed," Alana said.

I remembered the summer exchange programs. I'd participated in one with G-Garden the summer I met Rinoa. I spent more time sneaking out to go see her than I'd spent in class. I have no idea what we actually studied that summer, being that I was absent for most of it.

"You're taking summer classes?" I asked.

"A couple of electives and our gunblade lessons," Alana said. "But we don't have an instructor, so they've got us lumped in with everyone else that trains with a blade. It switches things up a bit to spar with someone using a broadsword, but we're not really learning much."

"Let me guess, more talking than training?" I asked.

"Yeah, pretty much," Alana said. "It's okay though. Mikael and I train on our own so that we don't get behind."

"Can you give us any pointers?" Mikael asked, speaking for the first time.

"What do you want to know?"

"I was wondering if I should hold back at the beginning of a battle, or be the aggressor," he said. "I'm never sure."

"Well, it depends," I said. "Say you're fighting a Grendel, and you're levels above it, there's no reason you can't take charge right off the bat. The faster you can take down a lesser opponent, the better. But, say you're fighting me. What level are you?"

"Cadet level 24," he said.

"Okay, so say you and I get into a fight, and you're a cadet level 24, and you know I'm a SeeD level 87, what do you think's going to happen if you go in aggressive?"

"You'll take me out."

"Right, but say you hold off a bit, let me get a few swings in, see how I move, see if I have any weakness or flaws in my technique that you can take advantage of. You watch and you learn, and you figure out when and how it's best to strike me," I said. "Every enemy has a weakness. Never forget that. If you can find the weakness, you might figure out a way to beat them. Even if they're stronger than you are."

They both looked at me in awe, as though this was a revelation to them.

"What about if we're evenly matched?" Alana asked.

"That's when it's fun," I said. "You can learn the most about yourself from an opponent who is your equal. If you pay attention, you can figure out what your own weaknesses are and learn to correct them. Sometimes, you learn things from them, like a different way to arc your blade when making a strike, or a better stance, or a better way to defend a hit coming from a certain angle."

Alana looked at Mikael and nodded, grinning at him in satisfaction.

"See?" she said. "I told you."

"Fight again," I said. "But this time, Cadet Milovich, all I want you to do is focus on defending yourself. Lasko, you're on offense."

They looked at me as if I was crazy, but complied. Alana took a defensive stance, knees bent, her blade held out in front of her, ready to parry Mikael's attacks. They began the fight and I watched, and it was as I'd thought. While Alana was exceptional at attacking, she lacked a solid defense. Several of Mikael's strikes broke through and he landed a couple of good, solid hits on her. Part of it was that the kid hit hard, but the other was that Alana had probably spent most of her training time focusing on her offense. While that wasn't a bad thing in any way, it opened her up for trouble should she face a stronger opponent.

"Two things," I said after I'd called an end to the fight. "Lasko, you're using the wrong blade. That thing is owning you. The weight is slowing you down and it's too long in proportion to your height. If you can't control it, then there's no point in using it."

The boy looked abashed and then nodded his head in agreement.

"It was my father's," he admitted. "It was built for him, not me."

"Then you either need one of your own, something with less weight to it, or you need a rebuild. The shop in Balamb does good work," I suggested. "Or, if you insist on using it as is, then you're going to have to spend some serious time in the gym. I'm going to suggest both."

"What was the second thing?" Alana asked.

"Your defense is crap," I told her.

She looked shocked at my bluntness, but I didn't care that it might have hurt her feelings. If she wanted to get better, if she was to be my student, she'd just have to get used to it.

"Speaking from experience, your offense won't matter if you don't know how to defend yourself. If I were to fight you right now, I'd tear you apart. Sure, you'd land a few good hits, but the second you opened yourself up, I'd take you out in thirty seconds or less," I told her. "Learn to defend yourself first, then focus on attacking."

"That's the opposite of what instructor Tanaka taught us," Alana said.

"Tanaka never fought a real battle in his life," I told them. "Look, at the start of that whole mess with Ultimecia, I thought the same thing. That I could win just by hacking my opponent to bits. It worked for a while, but you know what? Commander Leonhart beat me. More than once, all because he was better at defending himself than I was. I could slash away all I wanted, and it got me nowhere. Meanwhile, after a certain point, I didn't know how to counter his attacks. That's why I lost. A good defense and proper junctioning will save your life. Don't ever, ever forget that."

Alana was speechless. She stared up at me with the kind of awe and respect I didn't expect or deserve. Aw, hell. It was starting already. These kids were eating up my words like they were gospel. It was unsettling. They looked at me like I was some kind of role model, and everyone, including myself, knew that I wasn't. What was Cid thinking?

I had to get out of there, and get away from them. For the first time, I really felt pressured to get this right. I might very well pass my exams and become an instructor, but what then? What if I wasn't cut out for it and wound up screwing these kids up? It wasn't just my fate I'd be responsible for, but theirs too. If I taught them the wrong things, or failed to emphasize something and it got them killed in the line of duty, that would be on me. I didn't want any more mistakes or death on my conscience.

"Instructor, are you okay?" Alana asked. "You look sick."

I could only shake my head as I turned away.

I didn't want these kids to count on me too much. I didn't want to have to let them down.

"Instructor?" Alana said. "Thanks for the pointers."

"No problem," I muttered, but I was lying.

I hoped neither of them heard the lie in my voice as I left them and headed toward the SeeD lounge for a drink. I wasn't one to typically drown myself in alcohol when I was down about something, but short of going out and finding real monsters to take it out on, which I couldn't do, it was my only other option in trying to forget my sorrows for a little while.

I sat at the bar and ordered a double shot of Mimmet, trying to ignore the stares I was getting from other SeeDs. Some of them were merely curious, but a couple were openly glaring at me. I ignored them and knocked back my shot, then ordered another.

"Celebrating?" Squall asked as he slid onto the barstool next to me.

I shrugged. "What's there to celebrate?"

"I hear you aced your midterms," he said. "That's something."

The bartender brought me my second shot, and I knocked that one back, too. I could feel Squall watching me, though he didn't say anything for a long time. He ordered himself a beer and me another shot, which I gladly accepted.

"So what's the deal?" he finally asked.

All I could do was shrug. How did I explain to him, of all people, my doubts? He was the last person I wanted to share this stuff with. Hell, there wasn't anyone I could share it with. Who could I tell? Rajin, my brainwashed, Selphie worshiping, turncoat friend? Or Fujin, who'd just kick me and call me a crybaby? Or, hey, how about Selphie?

Right. I didn't even want to think about how that conversation would go. Somehow, she'd turn it around so that it wasn't about my concerns anymore, but her damned student center and all her stupid, trivial plans.

"Sometimes, it helps to talk about it," Squall said.

I looked at him like he had sandworms crawling out of his nose. Squall Leonhart, suggesting I talk about it? Now I was sure the world had gone to hell. I let out a bitter laugh and knocked back my third shot.

"Okay," I said. "You want to know what's wrong? I'll tell you. What the hell were you and Cid thinking, bringing me back here? Are you both _insane_?"

"Maybe," he allowed. "But we've been over this before. You were the best man for the job."

"I'm going to say it again," I said, "Are you insane? Can you trust me, _me_, the man that's responsible for the deaths of a thousand people, the destruction of not one, but_ two_ Gardens-'cause let's face it, Galbadia Garden was pretty much destroyed after I gave the genius order to ram Balamb with it. What part of this sounded like a good idea to you?"

Squall ordered me another round and waited while I drank it. I was starting to feel the effect of chugging mimmet with abandon, and I wondered why Squall was encouraging it. It was bad form for both of us, and people were watching, but Squall didn't seem to care.

"I saw you with those kids in the Training Center earlier," Squall said. "I'll admit, I had my doubts, but then I saw the way you were with them, and I forgot every doubt I had. They look up to you, already, and you're not even an instructor yet. There's a lot to be said for that."

"And what if I let them down?" I asked. "What if I fail my exams? Or worse, what if I pass and I suck as an instructor? What if I fuck them all up without meaning to? I don't want to be responsible for that!"

Squall set down his beer and looked at me. "The Seifer I know would never second guess himself."

"Only when I'm following my own plan," I spat back. "This wasn't my idea, and I don't think I'm cut out for it."

"You're wrong. Everything you did today for those kids today?" he said, "That was exactly what you're supposed to do. You just proved to me that you can do it, and that you were absolutely the right choice."

"Don't put your faith in me, Leohart," I muttered. "I'm only going to let you down."

The alcohol wasn't helping my mood at all. Of course, I hadn't planned on a pep talk from the supreme commander of the world, either. Instead of making me feel better, it was just making me feel sorry for myself. I should have stopped then, but I accepted another shot, drank it, and ordered another.

Squall was getting pissed at me. His expression didn't change, but I could tell by his posture and the way he drummed his fingers against his beer while he studied me in the mirror behind the bar.

"Why don't we just forget this whole thing?" I asked. "Just stick me in the brig and be done with it. Preemptive strike. Lock me away before I can fuck anything else up."

To my utter surprise, Squall seized me by the collar and yanked me toward him, his expression murderous. I was so shocked, I couldn't even react.

"You listen to me, and you listen good, because I won't say this again," Squall said in a low voice. "There are a lot of people who are just waiting for you to fail so they can say they were right all along. I am not one of those people and whether you believe it or not, I have faith in you. I _believe_ in you, so you damn well better start believing in yourself. Stop this bullshit pity party you've got going on, man up and accept the fact that you're meant to do this."

He let me go, ordered me another shot and got up.

"That's your last one," he informed me. "Drink it, go back to your room, and stop feeling sorry for yourself. I'll see you in the morning."

I was too stunned to even pick up the shot glass.

Squall Leonhart believed in me?

Well, stop the world, I want off. That was the craziest thing I'd ever heard. I suddenly felt like a complete and total ass, and a great big crybaby to boot. I drank my last shot, got to my feet and stumbled back to my dorm, as ordered. Inside, I kicked off my shoes, stumbled to the couch and passed out face first.

Squall believed. In me.

Who knew?

* * *

A/N:

Wench: Brace yourselves for the return of hilarity in the next chapter. The last couple have focused less on the humor and more on the drama and set up for future events, but don't worry. Next one is just diabolical, thanks to PodSara's unabashed, wicked and shameless sense of humor. It's bad enough that we'll probably have to change the rating, so please, please, please make sure you check for this under the M rating if you've been following so far.


	10. Eight Ball, Corner Pocket

A/N: I'm warning you ahead of time-the second half of this chapter is, in a word, blunt. There aren't exactly any truly graphically depicted acts in this (okay, borderline), but some of the terms used aren't very….clean. We're talking about a sexually frustrated Seifer Almasy here. There was no way to keep it clean without compromising the honesty. As it is, it's a toned down version of what PodSara originally wrote, which was um, really, really steamy and off the charts dirty. If this kind of thing in any way offends you, you should probably turn back now and go find yourself a cute vanilla Squinoa to read. Consider yourself warned.

For the rest of you, I hope you find it as amusing and enjoyable as we did while writing it.

* * *

Chapter 10

Eight Ball, Corner Pocket

* * *

I

* * *

I woke early the next morning, feeling rather good considering how much I'd had to drink. I turned off the alarm and sat on the edge of the bed thinking about how I'd behaved at the bar with Squall. Hyne, I was an idiot. Or maybe he was the idiot for believing in me. I wasn't really sure which. While the irony of his faith wasn't lost on me, I really had to stop and wonder what it was he'd seen that I didn't. Did it give me hope to know he didn't want me to fail? Absolutely. Did I believe that I wouldn't? Well, the jury was still out on that one. All I can say is that I wanted to succeed, but given my history, my chances didn't seem so great.

But I wanted this. I wanted to keep my freedom and my friends, and earn back a little bit of respect, if only through my skill at wielding a gunblade. That in itself was more than I could ask for, but I wanted it, whether or not I deserved it. Maybe that's why I felt so damned bad about the whole situation. I didn't deserve it, and the people that should have hated me were the ones responsible for getting me here. I'd never done a thing for any of them, and if the situation were reversed, I know I wouldn't care what happened to any of them. For them to be so selfless and generous only highlighted how much of a dick I was in reality.

I really needed to take stock of what I was actually doing here. There was the instructor thing and the student center, but what was I really doing here? And what did they really want from me? Was this a tough love lesson, something Cid had cooked up to make me see the error of my ways? If so, I didn't need it. Even in prison, I'd known, and I regretted the things I'd done every single moment of every single day. True, being here made it worse, as I had to look them in the eye and know what an ass I'd made of myself and what a mess I'd made of the world. But, I was still free. I was a free man, and that was so much more than I deserved.

I got up, made myself some coffee and resolved that I would stop feeling sorry for myself. No more second guessing myself. No more doubting. I would do what they asked me to do, and I would do it to the best of my abilities. If this was my penance, I would be man enough to accept it. I couldn't afford to let anyone down. Not Squall, not Selphie, not Cid or Rinoa. Most of all, I couldn't let those kids down. Even if only Alana and Mikael respected what I had to teach them, I would do it and I would be happy about it.

I dressed and went to the Training Center, where Squall's words, "I'll see you in the morning," proved more than just a figure of speech. I found him leaning against a tree as if he'd been waiting for me. I hadn't planned on actually meeting him here until I was sure I was ready to fight him again, but as I stood there, I decided I needed to make up for being such a pathetic whiner the night before.

He had other plans for me.

"I started thinking last night after I left the SeeD Lounge," he began. "You haven't done much training with a two handed blade, have you?"

I was taken aback, but I shook my head. "Not since our cadet days."

"How are you going to teach it if you don't have much experience with it?"

I raised an eyebrow, wondering what he was getting at. He was the one who wanted me to do this. Why ask me?

"Guess you guys didn't think that one through, huh?"

Squall shot me a harassed look and handed over his blade. Surprised, I reached out slowly and took it from him.

"Give me yours," he said.

Reluctantly, I gave him mine. He lifted it and gave it a few test swings, then let it rest beside him, almost as if he'd dismissed it.

"I'm letting you borrow Griever till Friday," he informed me. "It'll help you refresh your memory on how to train with it. I'll hold onto yours till then."

"You really trust me that much?" I asked.

"I trust you."

He didn't elaborate, but he didn't need to. Entrusting your weapon to someone else was a huge deal. Your weapon is an extension of you, and most SeeDs are superstitious about their weapons. You don't handle or mess with someone else's, and when you die, you either pass it on to a loved one, or you're buried with it. Trading with someone was unheard of unless you really and truly trusted that person. It went without saying that Squall was genuine in this exchange. He wouldn't have done it otherwise.

I gave it a few test swings, unused to being limited by having both hands occupied. The damned thing was heavy, it's weight twice that of my own. Now I remembered why I'd never bothered with one, though both had their advantages.

A two handed blade gave the advantage of hitting harder and you had more control over it, but your range of motion was limited and you couldn't cast magic and fight with it at the same time. The weight and design of it made it impossible to do both. Sure, you could hold it one handed while you cast your magic, but you couldn't parry an attack with one hand while casting with the other. Well, you could try, but it wasn't very effective and Squall had the scar to prove it. It did do a lot more damage than a single, though, making the casting of magic optional, since it took a lot less time to chop your enemy to bits than it did to try to work magic into your strategy.

On the other hand, a blade like mine allowed for simultaneous attack or parry and the casting of magic due to its lighter build. It also let me move freely and attack from just about any angle. I could move faster and attack quicker, but the trade-off was that it lacked the power of its predecessor. For that reason alone, it was less popular than the two handed version, but personally, I preferred speed and style over brute force, but that was just me.

"Meet me here on Friday, same time," Squall said, "and you can show me what you learned."

"Do I get a gold star if I do well, sir?"

"Better. I'll give you leave to go to Balamb a week from Friday with your posse," he said, "so that you don't forget why you're doing this."

I was dumbfounded. I never expected him to understand me and my foibles, but he did. Was I that transparent? Was it really that easy for him to see I was frustrated and stressed out?

"Why?"

"You're under a lot of pressure," he said, "I figured if I didn't let you go blow off some steam, you'd crack before finals. Neither of us can afford that."

"So you've got something riding on this, too, do you?"

"You know I do," Squall said, "but it's not just that you losing your shit would leave me without a gunblade instructor. I'd hate to see you go back to prison, and I'd hate to lose you as a friend."

"Are we friends?"

"I'd like to think we could be."

This was a conversation I never thought we'd be having. It was one thing to respect the other and come to a mutual understanding about where we stood. To put all our grievances behind us and actually like one another was something completely different. Yet, I supposed we'd done that already. Time and experience had matured both of us enough that we could have a conversation that didn't end in bloodshed. And I'd found since I'd been back, I wasn't uncomfortable in his company. As an added bonus, he didn't sugar coat anything and he told the truth, even if the truth sucked. Would we ever be close? I doubted that, since Squall wasn't really close to anyone except Rinoa, but to my utter amazement, it did seem friendship was where this was headed. Apparently, Squall saw it too.

"Your funeral," I said. "Wait till the press gets ahold of that."

"I don't give a damn."

Squall was quiet for a moment, staring contemplatively off into the distance. Then he hoisted Hyperion up to his shoulder and nodded at me.

"Looking forward to the day you're ready to challenge me again," he said. "Hope it's sooner rather than later. Don't make me wait too long."

* * *

II

* * *

Later, after I'd returned from my last class, I prepared to sit down and study when there came a ferocious banging on my door. I looked out the peep hole and there were those eyes, those insane, unnaturally green eyes, like broccoli with the volume turned up, peering back at me. I toyed with the idea of not answering, but she continued pounding on the door without stopping, hard enough to rattle it on its hinges. If I let it go on much longer, she might actually bust it down. With a heavy, irritated sigh, I flung the door open.

She started talking before I could even tell her to go away.

"Great news, Seifer," she gushed and pushed her way past me into the room. "The pool table was delivered already, but I'm going to need your help to move it into the activities room. They just kind of dumped it in the hall and left."

"I'll get Raijin to help me in the morning," I said. "I've got some studying to do, and I need to develop my photos for Friday's class."

"It's blocking the hallway," Selphie said. "It's gotta get moved today, lazy butt."

"Then I'll get Raijin to help me when he's off work."

"I can't get into the office!"

With a heavy sigh, I consented. "Fine."

It was as she'd said. The delivery people had just left the stupid thing right in the middle of the hallway, blocking the office, the storage closet and the room it was supposed to go in. The only way into any of those rooms was to climb up onto the table, slide across and in through the doorway.

"Why didn't you tell them to put it in the activities room?" I asked.

"I was in Cid's office when they came. I didn't know it was coming today. They told me tomorrow!"

"You and I aren't going to be able to move this by ourselves," I said. "If you'd just wait a bit, I'm sure Raijin will be happy to help."

"We've been over this, Seifer. It needs to be moved. Now. Right _now_."

Cursing to myself, I grabbed one end, and Selphie grabbed the other. Slowly, we were able to half slide, half carry the thing into the activities room. Once it was inside, I set it down and made a bee line for the door.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"We moved it, and now I'm going back to my room to study," I said. "Is that okay with you, Warden?"

"We have to figure out where to put it!" she cried. "You can't just leave!"

"We can do that tomorrow."

"Oh, hey," she said, looking inspired. She patterned her hand and said, "Float."

The table lifted itself a couple of inches off the floor and hovered there as if light as air. I kind of wanted to scream right then, but I held it in. I was going to murder her. And then myself, for not thinking of it first.

"Help me guide it to the middle and then you can go, okay?" she said.

"Fine."

The float spell proved somewhat ineffectual, probably because of the weight, and it came crashing down on my foot an instant later

"Son of a bitch!" I bellowed, holding my injured foot with one hand and hopping around like a fool on the other.

"Sorry," she said, "It was worth a shot."

"If you'd just wait till tomorrow, I can get Raijin to help me," I yelled. "But no, you have to do it now. Never mind that I have stuff to do. It's always about you and your stupid plans and I'm sick of it!"

"I've got a ton of things to do tomorrow, Seifer. I won't have time!"

"_So do them! _Rai and I will take care of it and you can do your thing. Problem solved."

"You won't have time, either! You've got class all day, remember_?_"

"After my classes, then," I said. "I don't know what the big hurry is, anyway. It's not like anyone's interested in all this crap."

Her face turned crimson and I knew I was in for it. I braced myself for a shit storm of verbiage to be rained down upon me.

"They _would_ be if you didn't scare them off. You and your meat head friends!" she screeched. "I caught Fujin trying to force some kids to sign up yesterday, and I've got news for you. That's not how it works! They're supposed to do it because they _want_to do it, not because they're afraid for their lives!"

"Yeah, all your love and kindness crap works so well! And I thought those meatheads were your friends, too, seeing as the three of you are joined at the hip these days!" I bellowed back. "And while we're on the subject, let's see how many you got signed up," I grabbed her roster from the table. "A great big _zero_! Look at that! That's the Grendel calling the Wendigo ugly, right there!"

"Shut up!" she cried and stuck her finger in my face. "I've got a lot more to do than you do!"

"Bullshit! You work me like a freaking dog, and on top of that, I've got my classes and my training too, so I don't want to hear how much work _you_ have to do! You spend all your time making stupid, ridiculous and nonsensical lists and flipping through catalogues that don't have anything to do with what you're trying to accomplish here!"

"You're a big, dumb, stupid idiot!" Selphie said. "And, you're mean! You're a big dumb mean _meanie_!"

"That's Rinoa's line. Get your own!" I said.

"A-hole! Big, ugly, mean effing a-hole!"

Her inability to use the actual explicative cracked me up and made the whole scene seem less an argument than a comedy routine. The whole situation was absurd.

"That's the best you've got?" I asked. "Effing A-hole? Well excuse me while I go to my room and cry now. Really. You've wounded me. _Deeply_."

I'm not sure how it happened, but one second we were screaming at one another and the next she was in my arms and our lips were mashed together. A hot storm of pure, angry lust washed through me and I pushed her down onto the pool table. To be honest, I was still pissed at her for, well, just about everything, and I wanted her to know it. I wanted every bit of my frustration with her to show, but I couldn't stop kissing her to save my life. I was like a man possessed.

I shoved my tongue into her mouth as I leaned over her and she eagerly kissed me back with the same kind of urgency. She made a strange noise, somewhere between a moan and a little girl's squeal of delight as she dug her fingernails into the back of my neck. One of her legs wrapped around my waist as I crushed her beneath me.

Hyne almighty, I wanted her. I didn't care who she was or what she'd said to me or how much she annoyed or pissed me off. I was stupid with lust, turned on by her anger with me, and even more by the way she seemed to enjoy being manhandled. I wasn't being gentle with her, but she liked it. That much was evident by the way her hands slid up my back and she raked my skin with her fingernails and in the way she responded to my mouth on hers.

When my lips moved to her throat, she squealed again and arched her back, digging her fingernails into the back of my neck. That was all it took to send me over the edge. I fumbled for my zipper.

"What. The. _Hell...!"_

We both looked toward the source of the voice, startled and confused by the interruption. Quistis stood in the doorway, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open. Her shock was evident. It was obvious the last thing she expected to see was the two of us humping on the pool table. Her face went a little pale, and for a second, I thought she was going to yak all over the place.

"Get off me, you big stupid _idiot_!" Selphie screeched, right in my ear, and began to pummel me with her tiny fists.

I stood slowly, feeling conflicted. Part of me wanted to drag Selphie up to my room by her hair, caveman style. The other part wasn't sure what had just happened. I stood there feeling like a man who'd just been poleaxed, unsure of if I was still in the here and now or if this was some sort of bizarre dream.

In the doorway, Quistis cleared her throat. "Uh, I'll come back later?"

The instant she was gone, we were back to screaming at one another.

_"What did you do that for_?" Selphie cried, giving me a rough shove. "Now Quistis is gonna think I'm messing around with you!"

"You're the one that grabbed me! I was just reacting to the situation," I growled back.

"I grabbed you? _Are you kidding me_?" she screeched. "In what world could I possibly want you? I've already got a boyfriend!"

I started laughing. "Right. The cowboy. The one who's boning his secretary when you're not around? That boyfriend? Or is there another one, 'cause after the way you just jumped my shit, I'm inclined to believe you're both messing around."

Her face went pale. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Admit it. You wanted me."

"You're crazy!" she screamed.

"Why, because I'm telling the truth?"

We were face to face again, and I half expected us to end up back on the pool table, groping one another. But it didn't happen.

"I hate you!"

"Get in line. _Everybody_hates me!" I yelled. "What makes you so special?"

Selphie's face turned red again and she balled up her fists. I thought she was going to hit me, but instead, she stalked from the room, presumably to go cry to her redneck boyfriend about what a jerk I was.

I took a deep breath and headed to the training center. I had a mountain's worth of frustration to work off and I vaguely wondered if it was physically possible for my balls to actually explode.

* * *

III

* * *

Selphie couldn't believe what had just happened. Not only did she make out with Seifer, but she got caught, then ended up fighting with him again. In a way, she was glad they'd been interrupted, because she'd been thirty seconds from tearing his clothes off and letting him have his way with her. Hyne, she'd never been that hot for a guy before, and no guy had ever kissed her like that.

There was something so raw and unapologetic in the way his mouth had moved against hers, something demanding and not at all sweet. All of it had felt so out of control and it made her forget, just for a moment, about Irvine or anything else that mattered in her life. How could Seifer have that effect on her, when she could barely have a conversation with him that didn't end with one or the other annoyed and frustrated? Then again, this was par for the course, wasn't it? Those few, brief moments had left her annoyed and frustrated, hadn't they? But what if…?

Of course, getting caught wasn't a good thing, and she hadn't meant for it to happen in the first place. Especially not with Seifer! She was with Irvine. She loved Irvine, right?

Right.

There was only one thing to do. She'd find Quistis and explain things, then beg her not to tell anyone what she'd seen. Simple as that.

And she could trust Quistis. Quistis was her friend, who'd told all of her own secrets, including the one about how she'd once slept with Nida to make Squall jealous, and how much she'd once despised Rinoa for getting in the way, even though she didn't feel that way now. Quistis would keep her secret.

As she hurried up to Quistis' office, she quietly seethed about what Seifer had said about Irvine. Just because he worked a lot didn't mean that he was cheating. His job kept him busy, just like hers did. So what if he spent a lot of time with his secretary? Selphie spent a lot of time with Seifer, and it didn't mean a thing.

Except, Selphie had just made out with Seifer.

What if something like that happened between Irvine and his cute little secretary? What if they didn't mean to, and it just happened?

No. Irvine loved her. He might flirt, but that was as far as it would go. Selphie was sure of that.

And she and Seifer hadn't done anything really wrong. Just a little kissing. Okay, well, a lot of kissing, but it wasn't as bad as it could have been. Still, Selphie knew Irvine would be hurt if he knew. She couldn't let him find out about this. Quistis had to understand.

She found Quistis in her office. Before Quistis could say a word, Selphie started explaining. She couldn't keep the tears from rolling down her cheeks, or the worry out of her voice. Quistis just sat there, listening, without an expression on her face. Selphie found this strange. She'd expected at least some kind of sympathy or understanding or flat out disapproval, but Quistis' face was absolutely blank.

Maybe it was just the shock of what Quistis had seen. Selphie figured if the situation had been reversed, she'd want to claw her own eyes out, drink a quart of Sylkis and then forget she'd ever witnessed such a thing.

"Why are you telling me this?" Quistis asked. "You don't have to justify yourself to me, you know."

"Don't I?" Selphie pleaded. "I mean, you _saw_!"

Quistis shrugged. "It's not like anyone would believe me. You and Seifer aren't exactly the perfect couple, you scream at each other all the time...who'd believe that I saw the two of you going at it?"

Selphie groaned. "Did you have to put it that way?"

"That's what you were doing," Quistis said with another shrug.

"I know, but you didn't have to say it like that..." Selphie said.

"Listen, are things with you and Irvine okay?" Quistis asked.

Some strange emotion flickered behind Quistis' eyes, but it was gone too quickly for Selphie to even try to identify it. Either way, it didn't matter, so long as this never, ever got back to Irvine.

"Sure they are," Selphie said. "Why would you think they weren't?"

"I was just trying to think of an explanation for what happened," Quistis said. "There's got to be some reason you let Seifer even lay a hand on you."

"If there's a reason, I don't know it," Selphie sighed.

She was having trouble forgetting how his lips had felt against hers. Hyne, the boy knew how to kiss. And she grudgingly had to admit to herself that she'd liked the way he'd taken control. Irvine never did that. For all his talk, he wasn't that aggressive in bed. Just once, she'd like for him to take charge instead of letting her call all the shots.

The idea was such a turn on, she excused herself from Quistis' office and nearly ran to the armory, where she pushed Irvine into his office, locked the door and let him have her on the desk.

She thought about Seifer the whole time.

* * *

IV

* * *

An hour at the training center did nothing to quench the fire burning in my neglected loins. It had been more than three years since I'd gotten laid. Since I'd been back, it hadn't really been a priority, given that just about every girl at Garden was afraid of me, especially the cute ones. Had I approached them, I knew they'd probably run away, screaming rape or something. If I had leave to go to Balamb, I could have easily found myself a hooker, but I didn't want what they were selling anyway. I may have been desperate, I may have been a bastard, but I wouldn't settle for something like that. I wanted a girl who was into it, not someone who was doing it because I paid her to. Trust me. There's a huge difference between the two. Don't ask now I know.

Three years without sex. Now, it was the only thing on my mind. It was an itch I couldn't scratch and it was making me nuts. I stalked around Garden for a while, eyeing all the girls that passed. All of a sudden, their uniforms were obscene. The skirts were far too short, the jackets buttoned too low, so that a hint of cleavage could be seen at the top. Even the plain girls looked like walking porn to me.

I was going freaking crazy.

In three years, I'd forgotten exactly what it was like to have that kind of contact, and now that I'd had it, my need had suddenly kicked into overdrive. I was a walking hard-on. A boner in a trench coat. I swear, if a girl had smiled at me, I probably would have tried to hump her like a dog.

I kept thinking about Selphie's leg hooked around my waist, the way her fingers had raked my skin. I thought about her hands on my back, how her skin might have felt against mine. Had Quistis not walked in when she did, I would have had Selphie, right there in the activity room. I probably would have regretted it later, but after three years in the pokey, consequences were the last thing on my mind. I didn't care who she was, who her friends were or who she might or might not be dating. She'd wanted me, and that was something I was going to have a hard time finding here. Finding a girl who didn't fear or hold a grudge against me, who was also not a cadet, was like trying to dig my way to hell without a shovel.

I also wondered why Selphie hadn't hauled off and slapped me for touching her. I might have blamed her when we were arguing, but I was pretty sure I'd initiated it. Selphie was so in love with the cowboy, the thought of making out with me had probably never even crossed her mind. I was intrigued by the idea that she'd been into it. She hadn't resisted in the least, despite her boyfriend and her undying love for him.

I tried to distract myself by going down to the cafeteria with my notes, as was my habit now. I ordered a large coffee, a couple slices of pizza and sat at my usual table and tried to focus on my notes for tomorrow's class. Of course, I couldn't concentrate. All I could think about was getting laid and Selphie's fingernails digging into the back of my neck.

To my surprise, Selphie slipped into the chair across from me. Her cheeks were glowing and her hair was mussed, and I knew right then that she'd run to Irvine.

I was pissed.

"Let me guess," I said. "You fucked him in his office."

She pursed her lips together but didn't say anything.

"Was his secretary jealous, or did she join the party?"

"Shut up, Seifer," she said. "Why do you have to be so crude?"

I could tell she was trying desperately to keep her cool, but I was determined to make it difficult for her. I was glad it ruffled her feathers a little, but she'd had her satisfaction, while I hadn't.

"Well, if you came to rub it in, get lost. I've got to study."

She rubbed her eyes and sighed. "Can we just forget about it? Call it a moment of insanity?"

"Whatever," I said with a shrug and returned my attention to my notes.

"That's Squall's line."

"Look, I need to focus here, so if you don't have anything important to say, take a hike. I've got stuff to do."

I wanted to verbally tear her apart, but I held it back in favor of not making the situation worse. If I thought I'd been on the edge last night, that was nothing compared to this. At that point, anything, anything at all could have set me off and I didn't want another reason to flip out.

"I'm supposed to be helping you, remember?" she said.

"Don't need your help. I need you to shut up and leave."

"Come on, Seifer. I don't want you to be mad at me, okay?"

"I'm not mad," I grumbled, lying through my teeth. "I'm trying to study. I have a class in the morning, remember?"

"You really want to be left alone?"

"Yes!" I cried. "What part of shut up and leave didn't you understand?"

Without warning, Selphie picked up a slice of pizza from my plate and smacked me across the face with it. That was all it took for me to forget about keeping the peace.

"What is _wrong_ with you?" I yelled. "Have you made it your mission in life to drive me completely out of my mind? Because I've got to tell you, it's working! You have to be the most impossible, most obnoxious, insane, ridiculous, immature and _annoying_ creature I have ever met! Why are you doing this to me?"

When I mentioned that I was on the verge of snapping, I meant that. And Selphie had just pushed me over the edge. I sat there ready to beat her senseless if she made one false move. I was so enraged, so frustrated, I was shaking.

"I'm not doing anything to you!"

"You keep assaulting me with food products!" I bellowed at her, hurling the slice of pizza across the table at her. "I have things I need to get done, but you won't leave me alone! All I ask for is a few hours a day of peace and quiet so that I can study, but you've taken over every second of every day with your bullshit yearbook and fuzzy yellow crap everywhere! It's making me fucking crazy! For the love of Hyne, just leave me alone!"

"Why do you have to be so hateful? You really need to learn how to talk to people, Seifer!" she said. "You're really, really mean sometimes!"

"And you need to figure out what you want," I said. "You say you're in love with him, but then you're all over me every chance you get."

"Don't bring that up here!" she cried. "And stop making it sound like I'm constantly trying to jump your bones, you big fat liar! YOU kissed ME, remember?"

"You kissed me back. Twice," I growled. "I don't recall you trying to stop me either time."

Selphie got up and smoothed down her hair, suddenly all calm and collected as if this conversation had never happened. Her normally happy, friendly face shut down and became hard and cold and completely unlike her. She didn't even look like the same girl as she stared down at me.

"Fine. Have it your way. I'll leave you alone from now on."

With that, she turned and stalked from the cafeteria, leaving me with a very, very bad feeling.

* * *

V

* * *

Quistis sat in her office, staring out the window at the Quad below, thinking on what she'd witnessed earlier. She'd gone to ask Selphie about a requisition form she'd submitted and had walked in on the very last thing she'd ever expected to see. Whether or not it was the first time, as Selphie seemed to imply it was, it didn't really matter much. Something was up between the two, that much was obvious, and it changed the game a little. Not that Quistis was justifying what she'd done, but it seemed Selphie was no longer the innocent victim Quistis thought she was.

Though it had been unexpected and shocking at the time, now that Quistis thought about it, Selphie and Seifer kind of…worked. Quistis couldn't say why, exactly, because on paper, it was a terrible idea. But after witnessing them together like that, it didn't seem so crazy. They may have outwardly hated one another, there was no denying that there was chemistry. Otherwise, she wouldn't have seen what she saw earlier.

Or maybe Quistis was just rationalizing her own guilt. Maybe she was just looking for a reason to make it okay for her to be with Irvine. Whether or not he was being honest with her about his own feelings, Quistis couldn't help her own. In spite of her anger and guilt, somehow, she had fallen for Irvine Kinneas. If circumstances had been different, if Selphie had never been in the picture, it would have been so easy. Because it felt so natural to be with him. Being around him made her feel at ease and more complete than she'd ever felt in her entire life.

Maybe she could somehow…somehow what? Push Selphie into Seifer's arms so that she could justify what she was doing? It hadn't looked like Selphie would need much help in that department.

_I am a terrible friend, _Quistis thought.

Quistis picked up the phone and dialed the armory without thinking.

"Armory. Kinneas speaking."

"Irvine?"

"Quistis? What's up?"

"Can I see you in my office?"

"When?"

"Now."

She hung up the phone and undid the top two buttons of her blouse. If she was going to hell, she might as well do it thoroughly.

* * *

A/N part 2: I think I've mentioned before, this story is 90% done. All the chapters are written, it's just a matter of editing and maybe a little tweaking of the last chapter. I'll try to post 1-2 chapters a week, if only to get this one off my conscience. I mean, it's done, so I might as well post the whole thing.

To everyone that's posted a review-we thank you! To those that have not, we'd love to hear from you. –Hint, Hint-


End file.
